Bits and Pieces
by Nautical Paramour
Summary: Drabbles and shorter bits that belong with other stories, but don't fit in to the rest of it, and some writing I've done for tumblr prompts. Chapter Twenty-One is my submission to ash-castle's Valentine's challenge. My prompt was "Surprise?" and you know I had to choose Fenrir/Hermione for the pairing to celebrate Fenrir Feb. Just a bit of fluff!
1. Fenrir & Hermione Chocolate

A/N: So this is a little drabble written for kalilje in thanks for being the 500th reviewer for Done Without You! This scene is set in the Done Without You "universe" and it takes place before the epilogue. Enjoy!

* * *

Fenrir sat back on the couch, watching the little fire he had built grow into a roaring thing, taking a deep breath and letting himself relax. He could admit that living in the house - ever since he'd mated with Hermione - had some benefits after all. It was one thing to live out in the forest during the summer, but now that the months were getting colder, it was nice to a roof over your head to protect you from the elements, and a fire to warm your hands against. He still spent the majority of his time outdoors with his pack, but it was nice to have a home and a sweet mate to come home too.

Hermione must have heard him come in, because he soon heard her bare feet padding along the hardwood floor, heading into the living room where he was waiting for her. The sight of his mate, still in a form fitting work dress, the fabric tight around the growing bump of her pregnant belly made him happier than he ever thought he'd be.

His little mate gave him a winning smile, crossing the distance between them, only to settle gently into his lap. Hermione rested her head against his shoulder, her nose nugging the mark that he'd left on his shoulder, her fingers coming up to play with the chest hair, peeking out of his loosely buttoned flannel shirt.

He sighed, his hand coming to rest against her baby bump, feeling that he was the luckiest werewolf alive. Merlin, he longed to show Hermione just who she belonged to right now in front of the fireplace, but he could sense that she needed something. " _Mate._ " He said, his gravely voice sending a shiver racing down her spine. "Can I get you anything?"

Hermione looked up too quickly, a devious look on her face, and Fenrir _knew_ it was a mistake to have asked her. "As a matter of fact, there is something you can do for me." She pressed a lingering kiss to his lips before pulling away. "It's all I've been able to think about today."

Fenrir straightened up, thinking that might sound a little better than what he was initially thinking. Part of him was holding out hope that his cock was what she'd been thinking about all day. "What is it, little mate?"

"Oh, Fenrir, can you please get me a chocolate bunny?" She asked, a groan on her lips. "I've had the most awful craving for them, and well...I think that baby wants one too." She said, patting lightly on her belly.

"A chocolate bunny?" Fenrir asked dumbfounded.

"Yeah, you know like the ones for Easter?" Hermione responded. She was already up and off of his lap. "I'll just be waiting for you in the library then."

"Easter? It's not even Christmas yet." Fenrir whispered to himself, wondering if Hermione realized that. He hadn't even the foggiest idea of what a chocolate bunny was, let alone where to get one, but he knew just the person to ask. Remus.

* * *

A short while later, Fenrir had gathered Remus, leaving Teddy behind with Katrina and Tabitha, who were only too happy to watch the little boy. Remus apparated them to a muggle village. "Are you sure she asked for a chocolate bunny? Those are seasonal."

Fenrir wanted to groan at the luck he had, promising his pregnant mate that he would get her something that didn't even exist at this time of the year. "Yes." He said darkly, following the other man into the grocery store. Even after all of his little forays into the muggle world, Fenrir didn't think that he'd ever get used to the bright florescent lights that they seemed to be so partial to.

Letting his eyes and his other senses adjust to the unusual sensory effects, Fenrir followed Remus dutifully to the candy aisle. They looked all around, but they weren't able to find hide nor hair - Fenrir snorted at his own joke - of a chocolate rabbit, being that it was so close to Christmas. "Oh what do I do?" He asked Remus, feeling helpless, and like he couldn't provide adequately for her or their growing child.

Remus looked at the shelves for a moment, a hand on his chin. "Well, what she _really_ wants is the chocolate...Cadbury makes the chocolate bunnies, so I guess I would just get something from them."

It was easy enough to locate the Cadbury chocolate by their purple packaging. Fenrir felt his heart rate increase when he saw all the different _kinds_ of chocolate treats Cadbury made. Which one was _most_ like a bunny? What if he choose the wrong kind or if she didn't like what he got her? Above all he wanted to make Hermione happy.

Shaking his head, he knew that he wasn't going to be able to make a decision. Instead, he grabbed one of each off of the shelf. Surely, Hermione would be able to find _something_ she liked out of all this. Anything she didn't like, he could just give to Remus, who was practically salivating over the all the chocolate.

The cashier gave him a funny look when he saw all the chocolate coming down the little conveyor belt. He raised an eye at Fenrir, who just shrugged. "Pregnant girlfriend." He said, and that seemed to be enough explanation.

* * *

When Fenrir finally returned home, he eagerly entered the library, to find Hermione nestled into a couch, reading a book. He walked over to her, handing her the two plastic bags stuffed to the brim with chocolates.

Hermione gasped eagerly, greedy little fingers digging through the bounty that Fenrir had presented to her. "Oh, love, did you really get all this for me?"

Fenrir nodded, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck. "They didn't have any chocolate bunnies, and I wasn't sure what was most like one, so I figured, I'd let you choose."

Before he could say anymore, Hermione had jumped into his arms, pressing kisses against his face. "Take me to bed, mate." She said eagerly, her pupils dilating until he could only see a narrow sliver of brown of her iris.

"I thought you wanted chocolate." Fenrir said, dumbfounded.

"Later." Hermione punctuated with a kiss to his lips. "Right now, I can't think of anything I'd like more than you."


	2. Fenrir & Remus & Hermione Professor

A/N: This one is a gift fic for SereniteRose, who is just such a faithful and supportive reviewer! Honestly, I cannot remember the last time that she didn't review one of my stories! So this is just a little thank you to Serenite, for being so amazing! Serenite requested a Remus/Fenrir/Hermione bit, but I set it in a modern AU universe, so I hope you don't mind! I've never written a moresome pairing before, so I hope this ends up being successful?

Please let me know what you thought!

* * *

Remus Lupin couldn't stop staring at her, with her mouth chewing away on a pen while she wrote her final exam. God, how cliche could he be, a professor lusting after a student?

But, he supposed Hermione Granger wasn't just any student. With her superior intellect and eager to please attitude, she was the epitome of a teacher's pet. With her plaid skirt and knee highs she was walking temptation. The worst of it was that she didn't even know what she was doing to him!

Well, actually, the worst of it was probably the fact that he was in a committed relationship with the kind of man you didn't want to make jealous. Remus had met Fenrir Greyback while they were in undergrad and after a particularly wild party, they had become inseparable. Even when they had gone on to do their doctorates at separate schools, even the long distance couldn't keep them apart. They'd been only too lucky when they had each gotten a job teaching at the same University - Remus teaching Philosophy while Fenrir taught Psychology - right out of school.

He felt dread settle in his stomach when he realized that Fenrir was going to be able to tell right away that he was wavering in what he wanted immediately. Still, he couldn't tear his eyes from the sight of Hermione's tongue darting out against the top of the pen while she read over her essay.

When she uncrossed her legs, he tried to get a look of at silky skin between milky white thighs, only to be thwarted by the angle of the desk. Remus groaned, rubbing a hand over his face at how _pathetic_ he was being.

"Everything okay there?" A voice whispered from behind him causing Remus to jump.

"God! Don't sneak up on me like that." Remus admonished Fenrir, who was grinning at him with those big pearly white teeth on display. There was no denying that Fenrir was a handsome man, bulky with muscle and taller than just about everyone Remus knew. With dark hair and sparkling blue eyes, he was sure to have women and men panting after him.

But then of course, Fenrir would never be panting back after them, seeing as they were committed to one another. "Just wanted to keep you company - all my students are done with their finals. You should have listened to me and just given a scantron."

Remus wanted to roll his eyes, but made room at his desk. "You know that you could never have a philosophy exam reduced to four multiple choice answers." They sat together quietly, waiting for his students to hand in their exams. Of course, being a perfectionist, Hermione was the last to hand her's in.

Try as him might, he couldn't stop his body's natural reaction to the object of his secret fantasy. Cheeks reddening, breathing speeding up, Remus took the exam from her, before telling Hermione that he enjoyed having her in class. A shy girl, she tucked a tendril of curly brown hair behind her ear, before giving him a cautious smile, smoothing her hands down the front of her plaid skirt.

As soon as she was out of the classroom, Fenrir couldn't stop his snort of amusement. "You like her."

"I do not!" Remus said defensively, refusing to meet Fenrir's eyes. "And even if I did, she is my _student_."

"Not once you give her her final grade." Fenrir argued. "I don't mind, you know." He whispered, forcing Remus to look at him. Remus let out a deep breath, knowing that Fenrir would be able to read the truth in his own amber eyes. "You know we've talked about this before...bringing another person into our relationship. If you want to try with her, I wouldn't mind. She's certainly a little slice of naughtiness."

"The worst of it is, she doesn't even realize it." Remus said, knowing there was no point in lying to his boyfriend any longer.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that." Fenrir responded, staring at the door Hermione had just left. "Why don't you ask to meet, her, after she isn't your student any more?" Remus made a little noise in his throat, knowing that now that Fenrir had caught the scent of Hermione, he wouldn't let his prey go. The only question that remained was would Hermione be amenable to being caught?

* * *

Hermione nervously made her way towards Professor Lupin's office. She'd only been to his office once and being so close to him had made her heart beat so hard that she thought it was going to beat right out of her chest. She knew it was wrong and that he couldn't possibly feel the same way about her, but she had _such_ a huge crush on her Professor.

Knocking on the door, she saw Professor Lupin look up from his desk. "Professor? You asked to see me? Is there something wrong with my grade...because I saw that mine was already posted?"

"Please, call me Remus, Hermione." He offered with a weak smile.

Hermione stepped into the room, letting her book bag drop into the chair on the other side of his desk. She jumped in fright when the door to the office shut behind her, a resounding click signaling the lock of the door. Turning, she gasped to see none other than the imposing Professor Greyback. She'd never taken one of his classes before, but he was impossible to miss around campus. "Professor Greyback? What are you doing here?"

He crossed the distance between them, before pressing himself against her back, his lips coming near to her ear. "We wanted to talk to you about something, pet. I know that you've been a naughty little lady, haven't you Hermione?"

She looked desperately at Professor Lupin - Remus. Did he think that she had cheated on something? "I don't understand? I have always done my own work, I've never cheated." She couldn't imagine anything worse than a Professor taking into question her work.

Greyback chuckled behind her. "Ah, ah, ah, nothing like that pet. No, I know that you've been lusting after Professor Lupin, here, haven't you? Been fantasizing about what it might be like to be with him."

Hermione couldn't tear her eyes away from Remus's green eyes. She could see his pupils getting wider at Fenrir's words, his gravely voice seductive and low. She couldn't deny that it wasn't affecting her, each whispered word worming its way into her brain, mesmerizing her. "Yes." The words came out of her lips unbidden, but it wasn't a lie.

"Good girl, telling the truth." Fenrir growled. "Remus has been too, fantasizing about you, wearing those little knee socks, and now that you aren't his student any more, there is only one thing holding him back." She could hear the smile on Fenrir's face, even though she couldn't see it, with his body pressed tightly against her back. "Me. See, pet, Remus is _mine_."

Remus stood up and walked around the desk, walking with all the grace of a predator, catching her off guard. He didn't stop until he was pressed against her front, leaving her sandwiched between the two men. She tilted her head up, trying to meet Remus's eyes. "But there is a way around it, Hermione. You see, even though he hadn't told me yet, I can tell that...Fenrir wants you too."

Hermione gasped, feeling her heartbeat speed up in anticipation, unsure of what to do. But there was no denying that she could feel Greyback's arousal, pressing into the curve of her arse, clear as day. She wasn't sure what she wanted to do.

"So, if you want," Remus said, pushing her wild hair back over one shoulder, exposing the column of her neck, "you could have us both. But we are a package deal."

Fenrir ghosted his lips along her neck, and Hermione could feel her pulse race against the heat of his kiss. "What do you say, pet?" Greyback asked, his words a whisper over her skin.

Hermione didn't have to think long on what she wanted, pressed so intimately between the two men. Her body was practically aching in anticipation. The word was breathless on her lips, and she had never been so sure of herself. "Yes."


	3. Papa Fenrir, Hermione & Marcus

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows from last chapter - I might continue it in a future chapter as all of you seemed to enjoy it. This one is written for Kristeristerin, who was the 1000th reviewer on my story Red Right Hand. She requested a drabble involving Papa Fenrir with Hermione as his daughter, so I hope you all enjoy this! It's got a side of Flintmione too, to get y'all excited for Marcus May! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, answer questions and give story updates.

Please let me know what you thought of this!

* * *

Fenrir huddled closer to the side of the building and looked up at the hazy descent of the sun. Where the hell was she? Hermione was supposed to meet him thirty minutes ago in front of the bookshop, like she'd promised.

His werewolf pack was largely self sufficient, hunting for food and making some of their clothes from animal skins and furs, but every now and again, he still had to go into muggle or wizarding villages for supplies. They were staying in Wales this summer - Fenrir wanting to keep Hermione as far away from the Dark Lord as possible, while still keeping him close enough to get there if called upon. The fighting was only just beginning, but he hated it already, and he wished he never would have made that deal with Voldemort all those years ago, before he had a family to protect, before Hermione. As far as he knew, the Dark Lord was completely clueless about his daughter's existence.

Hermione had accompanied him to the wizarding village to purchase some essentials. Fenrir found that the shopkeepers were usually far more willing to work with a sixteen year old girl than they were with _him_ , even though she looked just as wild as he did.

When she saw the tiny bookstore, she begged to go in, and promised to meet him out front, once he'd completed his remaining business in half an hour. Fenrir had given her a handful of sickles and let her go on her own. He was never able to say no to his little girl.

Knowing that she likely got caught up reading something, Fenrir sighed, finally deciding to go into the little bookshop and look for his daughter. He stomped in, and immediately could hear her voice, even without his lupine senses. He followed the sound of it, towards the back of the shop, and he was horrified by what he found.

Hermione was there, her side leaning against a bookshelf, with a stack of books clutched in her arms, while a young man - but a _man_ none the less - mirrored her actions, his hand reaching out to touch her shoulder every now and again. And his sweet daughter was blushing and _giggling_ at what he said! He could feel rage and worry bubble up inside of him, and before he could take a moment to collect himself, he was stomping over to them.

He grabbed the man by the shoulder, pulling him away from his daughter, wanting to get some distance between them. The man was annoyed, and he tried to get free of Fenrir's grasp, but he couldn't. The man was a larger fellow, but he still wasn't as big as Fenrir was. "What the fuck is this?" He asked, looking to Hermione for an explanation.

"Oh, papa! I'm sorry, I got distracted...I hope you weren't waiting too long." Hermione said in a rush, realizing that she'd forgotten her promise to him.

"Yeah, distracted with him." He snarled, and he could smell the man's fear begin to seep into the shop. Judging by the way Hermione's nose scrunched she could too.

"Oh, put him down, papa, you're scaring him." She said, pressing her hands into her hips. "Papa, this is Marcus. He was just telling me about Hogwarts, where he went to school. He was meant to start playing Quidditch this year, but it got canceled because of the fighting, so he is staying home in Wales. He was just inviting me to dinner sometime."

Fenrir snarled. This wizard wanted to ask his daughter on a date? He didn't trust him farther than he could throw him. "How old are you boy?" He demanded.

"Twenty." The man spat out, clearly annoyed at being manhandled by him, but Fenrir didn't care what he felt, so long as Hermione was safe.

"Please, papa, can't I go to dinner with Marcus?" She asked, her doe eyes looking at his with such trust and care, and...Fenrir felt his heart melt.

When she looked at him like that, he knew that he could deny Hermione nothing. He never could - not since he found her all those years ago.

He'd been in a muggle village for a change, several years after the first war when he'd taken her in. It wasn't difficult for him to sense that there was another werewolf in the village, and so he went to track it down. He finally found it, standing in an alley, and using magic to open a dumpster and levitate food from it. Just...he wasn't expecting a tiny little ball of fluff - a four year old Hermione - to be the werewolf he was looking for.

He wondered briefly what had happened to her parents, but if he had to guess, he would think that they had abandoned her. After all, she must be muggleborn and she'd somehow been changed into a werewolf. After her first moon, he was sure that her muggle parents would have found themselves in over their heads and left her somewhere, not understanding what had become of their daughter. That, or the more unpleasant possibility that she might have killed them accidentally.

As soon as she saw him, she'd toddled over to her, and raised her arms to him wanting to be picked up, her brown eyes filled with trust from the moment she'd seen him. And for that day on, he'd promised himself he would care for her as his own, raising her and teaching her what magic he knew. He didn't send her to Hogwarts, knowing that their kind weren't allowed there, but he'd done the best that he could.

And now...now she was getting older, and soon she wouldn't need him for so many things. She wasn't a tiny ball of fluff any more. Instead, she was growing into a beautiful young woman. And, yes, while he didn't really trust wizards around her, he supposed that he could give her this one thing - one date where she could feel like a normal witch.

He clenched his jaw tightly, but already knew that he was going to relent. "Fine. You may take her to dinner, but you will bring her back to the town center no later than an hour past sunset." Fenrir said to Marcus. "And if you harm a single hair on my baby's head, I will hunt you down and eviscerate you." He growled, and wondered if Marcus even know that he was dealing with a werewolf.

Hermione looked so pleased. "Thank you, papa!" She said, wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug, and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Fenrir felt his heart clench and he wondered briefly when such a strong and formidable man such as he, had been reduced to such mush.


	4. Pollux & Cygnus Birth

A/N: This piece goes with my story Red Right Hand, so there are some spoilers in it still, it can probably be read as a stand alone. This prompt was sent to me by the lovely LittleGrowl, and I just loved it so much I had to write it. I do have plans for the next couple of these including a follow up to chapter three showing Hermione and Marcus's date for MarcusMay. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post story updates, sneak peeks and answer questions.

i would love to hear what you all thought of this story!

* * *

Pollux Black, hands shaking in his lap, waited outside of his bedroom for the agony of the birthing to be over. His wife was wailing at the tops of her lungs, while his grandmother and sister tried to talk her through it. He wondered what if his mother would be helping as well if she were still alive. His mother had always hated his wife when he was younger, and Pollux had been too stupid to understand why.

Another wail from Irma had broken his train of throught. She'd done it twice before, he didn't see why this time should be so different.

But of course, this time _was_ different.

He'd sent away his children Walburga and Alphard - or as he liked to call them his brother and sister - and he was glad that they were spending the evening with Hermione and his father rather than here listening to all the vile things that Irma was saying. While he and Hermione would never become friends, he couldn't deny that she had a way with children, and they would be well taken care of. He'd really misjudged her when he'd first met her, but to his dismay, you couldn't change the past.

If he could, he would have refused to marry Irma all those years ago. He felt abused and mislead ever since he realized that his wife was his father's mistress, pregnant with his bastard, one that Pollux was supposed to lay claim to. His uncle Sirius had taken him aside, sat with him on the day of his bonding, and promised that while he may never grow to love his wife, at the very least he would have his children. That his children would make everything worth it.

And he'd naively believed.

The only problem was that there never were children, not for Pollux. For a while he thought that Alphard might be his son, but the first time he held the boy he _knew_...he could tell that he wasn't the boy's father. And his suspicions were only confirmed the first time he saw his father holding his so-called grandson. The smile that lit up his face - pride and ownership written all over it - while Irma sat next to him on the couch.

Yes, what a pretty picture they might make if they were a real family. Except that they weren't - that was meant to be him. The proud image of fatherhood.

So, he'd waited. He waited for years and years of Irma putting him off and avoiding him, but to his confusion, she also didn't have any other children with his father. Pollux didn't want to speculate on his father's abilities, but with his young new wife remaining childless, he began to wonder if there was something wrong with Cygnus Black II's bits.

Pollux had specifically scheduled a long vacation and finally Irma opened up to him, letting him take his husbandly rights repeatedly and they returned to Britain with her pregnant. The way that she sobbed when she found out, he wondered if she was convinced that it was _she_ who could no longer have children. But to Pollux, it was clear that she'd never intended on giving him a child - never giving him that one bit of happiness that he could hold on to.

The room stilled when Irma quit her screaming, but it was soon replaced by the tiny wail of a baby. It wasn't long until his sister was carrying out a little bundle of pink, wrapped in a white blanket. "Congratulations Pollux, another boy." She said brightly, handing him the baby. "He's so handsome."

Pollux felt something inside of him settle into place the instant he looked at the little baby. He pulled back the blanket to see wisps of black hair. Pollux smiled, rubbing the backs of his fingers against the baby's downy cheek. He _knew_ in that instant that this was _his_ son. His heart filled with crushing love - an emotion that he didn't think he'd ever quite experienced before. He knew that he would do everything that he could in that moment for the little boy.

Irma was weeping in the other room, and Pollux couldn't stop the sneer from his face. Why was she insisting on ruining this moment for him? This promised moment that he had longed for for over ten years?

He was glad to learn then, that it was his father who actually had trouble conceiving children, and for a moment, he almost felt bad for Hermione. It seemed as though Cygnus Black II's reign was over.

Smirking at the little baby in his arms, he let his vindictive nature get the better of him. "Let's let the old man know that his time is at an end. We will call you Cygnus Black III." He said proudly, before calling in his grandmother and sister to let them know the name.

"What a wonderful way to honor your father." Ursula gushed. "Of course, we would have wished that Hermione would have been able to use that name for her own son, but we better not hold our breath at this point." She said snidely.

Pollux wanted to roll his eyes at his grandmother's ignorance - never could she imagine that one of her precious children would do something wrong. The boy chose that minute to open his eyes, revealing them to be gray. "Well, look at that. He's a Black, no doubt about that." Belvina said proudly.

Pollux nodded, but he wanted to say that little Cygnus didn't take after the Black family, but rather, Cygnus took after _him_. He doubted either of the women would understand the distinction.


	5. Fenrir & Hermione Sick

A/N: Hey guys! Thank you all so much for your reviews favorite and follows this one is for LyrebirdSong, who requested a drabble from the Hey There little Red universe, so here it is! This one is definitely M rated and it's a bit longer. Coming up next will be a follow up to chapter three - Hermione and Marcus's date for Marcus May.

I would love to hear what you thought of this!

* * *

Hermione sneezed three times in rapid succession, her nose pressed into one elbow, while the other clumsily looked for the kleenex box on the counter, knocking at least one thing onto the ground. Finally, she found her elusive quarry, and was able to blow her nose, her chapped skin protesting at the scratchy feel of the tissue.

When she looked up, Molly Weasley was shaking her head back and forth, a mixture of sympathy and concern for the miserable girl. "I don't like you seeing that man, Hermione. Look at you - sick after tramping about in the woods." She tsked, shaking her head back and forth. "And he doesn't even take care of you."

For not the first time that day, Hermione wondered why she'd been talked in to visiting the Weasley home for brunch again, knowing at all the redheads - save Ginny of course - did not approve of her boyfriend. She'd been dating Professor Greyback for nearly a year now, and they still were not afraid to point out all the ways that he was wrong for her. Bill had been more reticent lately, but Hermione knew that was only on account of the newly minted Professor Weasley dating new PhD student in avian students, Fleur Delacour. It was only wrong to date a student until he wanted to do it.

"Fenrir doesn't need to take care of me, Mrs. Weasley." Hermione said primly. "I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. And it's not the woods that got me sick - my chemistry lab partner has been coming to class with the flu. It was only a matter of time."

"Mione, you are looking pretty pale." Harry said, genuine concern on his face. "And you haven't touched your omelet. Why don't I take you home? Get some rest?" Hermione stared down at her plate...food had sounded good, until it was right in front of her, and she realized that she had no appetite. Thankful for her friend being so observant, Hermione nodded, letting him help her out to the car.

She was even more grateful when he didn't argue when she said she wanted to be dropped off at Fenrir's.

* * *

Hermione walked up the short walkway to Fenrir's cottage, wondering how she'd managed to get so sick so fast. Still, she was positive that she'd be able to help Fenrir get a bit of grading done, and then maybe they could have a relaxing evening. Take away and a movie, perhaps, cuddled up on the couch.

Pressing her key into the lock, she was surprised to see Fenrir waiting for her already at the kitchen table. "What are you doing here? I thought you had office hours." She asked, her eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"Bill texted me." Fenrir said. "Scolded me for not taking better care of you." His blue eyes were dark, concern clear on his face. He'd been so busy with preparations for tagging the new wolf pups in his pack that he hadn't been paying enough attention to his girlfriend. She looked so fragile there, her hair with none of it's usual wild vibrance, her lips and face pale, and her nose bright red. "God, Hermione, you do look pretty sick."

"I swear that it only just came on, today." Hermione said, pulling out a chair to sit at the table with him. "But don't worry, I can still help you with your grading."

Fenrir made a noise of amusement. "Oh, if you think you are doing anything but going up to rest in bed..." His voice sent a shiver up her spine, when he realized she had that little defiant look on. Standing up, he picked her up out of the chair, before gently placing her over his shoulder, like a sack of potatoes. At hearing her muffled protests, Fenrir gave her a gentle swat on her arse. "Enough, arguing."

It didn't take long for them to be standing in his bedroom, and Fenrir helped undress her, peeling off her jeans and boots, as well as an uncomfortable top, before finding one of his tshirts to keep her warm. Seeing her swallowed up by the oversized fabric would usually send the blood shooting to his cock, but he knew that Hermione need rest. Peeling back the covers, he waited for her to get in before tucking her in.

Hermione nibbled on her lower lip, trying to give him a coquettish look. "Don't you want to join me?" She asked, only to have the illusion ruined by a rather forceful sneeze.

Fenrir smirked at her. "You sneeze like a squirrel. No, you just try and get some sleep, and later I will wake you up for some soup." He was pleased to see that her eyes were already drooping shut now that she was able to comfortably rest. She'd be out like a light soon.

* * *

It was past sunset when Fenrir finally gathered Hermione from his bed. Wrapped up in his comforter, Fenrir laughed when she playfully punched his arm while he carried her back down the stairs. "I can walk by myself, you know."

"I wouldn't want you to slip and fall, sweet. Have you even eaten anything today?" He asked, placing her on the couch in front of the tv, before going to retrieve a tray with grilled cheese sandwiches and chicken broth. He didn't need to see her guilty look to know that he was right. Still, she _was_ sick, which meant that she didn't have much of an appetite. He didn't take it personally when she only ate half of her sandwich, but managed to eat the whole bowl of broth, mostly because she was eagerly snuggling into his warmth once the trays were cleared. He was a bit too big for the couch, but she still fit against him perfectly.

They flipped through the channels until they found a suitable movie to watch. Fenrir tried to bite back the groan when he felt Hermione wriggling around, trying to get comfortable against him, because he couldn't stop his body's natural reaction. He hoped his rock hard erection practically stabbing her in the back didn't bother her too much, because he knew that she wasn't up for their usual level of intimacy that night.

Only then, he saw his girlfriend biting her lower lip between pearly white teeth, failing to hide the grin from her face. She was doing it on purpose.

Fenrir growled at her, an arm wrapping around her middle to pull her tighter. "Ah, I see my sweet as gotten all her energy back." He teased, before pressing his lips against her neck, letting his tongue taste the skin behind her ear, knowing that it produced the best reactions from her. Sure enough, she was soon pressing herself back against him firmly, helpless little whimpers escaping from between parted lips.

His fingers slipped easily inside of her knickers, sliding easily through wet folds. Fenrir hissed at feeling how wet she was for him, even being as exhausted as she surely was. His thumb found her clit straining for attention easily enough, and pressed firmly against her, circling around in the way that she liked, while he entered her with two fingers. Pumping in and out of her, he started slowly, but quickly gained speed. He could feel the tension building in her body, pushing her until the edge when she was going to snap. Her whimpers had transformed to whispers of his name and pleading for more. Her hips pressed into him insistently, wanting the pleasure that he was giving her.

Suddenly, she was moaning, while her body stiffened, rigid and helpless as she let the feelings overwhelm him. Fenrir swore under his breath, feeling her tighten around his long fingers, watching her face scrunched up in bliss. God, he loved her.

He pressed her through the orgasm, waiting for that contentedly look to come over her face, before he removed his fingers from her, licking them clean. He knew that would usually have her eager for more, but not tonight.

Tonight, he wanted nothing more than to take care of her. And really, he wanted to take care of her _every_ day. He wasn't sure when, but he'd grown tired of her perfunctory returns to her apartment to gather new clothes to keep at his house, the one she only still had for appearances sake. He wanted her with him all the time. "Move in with me." He said, suddenly, surprising the girl in his arms.

Hermione looked up at him, giving him that adoring little face. He expected his girlfriend to come back at him with all sorts of arguments and reasons why they shouldn't - it was still too soon, she was still a student, what would happen if they broke up, they'd never get anything done because they couldn't keep their hands off of each other. "Okay." She said simply nodding her head, before craning her neck so that she could kiss him on the lips. "I will give my 30 days notice tomorrow." She promised.

"Really? I mean...I will help you pack." Fenrir said, surprised that she'd agreed so easily, but he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Mrs. Weasley is wrong." Hermione said, giving him a shy smile, before nuzzling her face against his neck. "You take excellent care of me." The sweet sentiment was punctuated by a tiny sneeze.


	6. Marcus & Hermione First Date

A/N: Thanks to all of you who reviewed, favorited or followed after last chapter! This is a continuation from chapter three, and it shows Marcus and Hermione's first date. This is part of Marcus May, which I hope you are enjoying. I've got another story out called Bigger Boys and Stolen Sweethearts if you enjoy Flintmione as well as a longer oneshot. And Kristeristerin has started a community to collect all of the Marcus May stories, so definitely check that out too.

I would so love to hear what you thought of this!

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After getting the third degree from the pretty girl's father, Marcus almost decided to just not show up to the date that he'd asked her on. The fearsome werewolf's description of what would happen to him if he harmed the werewolf's daughter was enough to have him shaking in his boots, but on top of that, he knew who the werewolf was. The infamous Fenrir Greyback. He decided that whatever Greyback would do to him if he didn't show up would be just as bad. After all, it would leave the pretty young witch - Hermione - in quite a state if she was stood up on her first ever date.

But, that was only half of the reason he decided to go. The other half was standing in front of the pub, looking quite awkward and nervous - Hermione herself.

He'd been excited to meet someone around his own age in the village, not to mention that he did find her quite pretty. She had wild, chocolate brown hair that looked as if she'd spent the day with the wind at her back on a broomstick. Tiny, slightly upturned nose was covered with a smattering of freckles and framed by two bit, innocent, brown eyes. Marcus had been blown away by her intelligence, especially because he didn't remember her from his time at Hogwarts.

When she saw him, she eagerly waved him over. She'd cleaned up a bit, wearing a floral print sundress that had seen better days, but her hair was somewhat tamed. "Marcus! I was beginning to worry that you weren't going to come." She said with a blush, and Marcus knew that he'd made the right choice in showing up for their date.

There was no chance that he was going to admit to her that he'd considered not coming, instead opting to hold the door open for her and locate a table for them to eat at. When he was sat across from her, he was taken aback by her flushed, delighted appearance. "You're really pretty." He blurted out, groaning internally by his lack of finesse. His friends would be laughing at him right now if they could see him.

Instead of laughing at him, though, she reached across the table and grabbed his hand. "Thank you. No one ever calls me pretty except for my papa. The rest of the pack seems to think I am some kind of...bushy haired runt."

"Well, you are a bit small." He said, with a grin on his face, teasing her a bit.

Before she could admonish him for the light hearted jibe, a waitress came over and took their orders. Marcus cleared his throat once the waitress was gone, eager to learn more about the girl. "I didn't know that Fenrir Greyback had a daughter." He said casually.

"You know who my papa is?" Hermione asked curiously, her head cocked to one side, in a way that Marcus found incredibly adorable. Nearly as adorable as he found her complete naivety. Was it possible that she didn't know her father's reputation? His fame was feared all throughout the wizarding world.

"Well, yeah, _everyone_ knows who he is." Marcus told her. "The papers say he's got an insatiable thirst for blood and that the Ministry is always looking for ways to capture him."

Hermione's eyes widened and she looked scared. "You don't think…" She bit her lower lip, looking at him in concern, before mumbling to herself. "Papa would never let himself get captured." Hermione looked up at him, confusion in her soft, brown eyes. "Are you sure you have the right Fenrir Greyback? I mean, sure...papa is the alpha and so he has to protect the pack, but he doesn't...he's not blood thirsty. And he's not really my father, I suppose, he adopted me when I was four."

Marcus felt his eyebrows rise in surprise. He couldn't imagine the fearsome werewolf Fenrir Greyback adopting someone, especially someone who was so sweet and nice as Hermione. She'd been so shy when he helped her reach a book off of a particularly high shelf in the library and he felt drawn to her immediately. "Enough about your father." He said, not wanting to think about the massive man and what he might do to him if he hurt Hermione's feelings. "Tell me more about yourself."

Hermione eagerly filled him in on all of her interests. Apparently she was quite gifted with herbology, owing to her keen sense of smell, and wanted to learn how to become a healer, though she didn't think she'd ever be able to go into the Wizarding world. She hadn't been formally schooled, rather getting all of her instruction from her father, but there was no doubt in Marcus's mind that she was an incredibly gifted witch.

In turn, he tried to explain Quidditch to the girl, who laughed at how ridiculous it sounded, though she was particularly interested in hearing about the position that _he_ played, eyes moving towards his biceps when he explained that he was responsible for throwing the quaffle through the rings. He'd puffed out his chest in masculine pride at that. After their meal was finished, Marcus knew that they didn't really have much in common at all, but he couldn't deny that he felt _drawn_ to her, like a moth to a flame. He never wanted to _stop_ talking to her.

She looked up at the clock, before letting out a disappointed groan. "Is that the time already? I promised papa I would meet him by the fountain in five minutes." She said, and it was impossible to miss the disappointment in her voice. He didn't want the night to end either.

Wrapping an arm around her waist, Marcus led her to the bar so that he could pay their bill, before turning to face her. She was so much smaller than him, so he had to bend down to press a kiss to her surprised lips. He wasn't about to kiss her in front of _Fenrir Greyback_ after all. To his delight, Hermione practically melted against him, purring in delight. He traced his tongue along her lips, waiting for her to allow him entry before he deepened their kiss. He hissed at the molten heat that shot through his body when he felt her cautious participation.

Pulling himself back before things got too heated and he just apparated them back to his apartment, Marcus gave the shy girl a smile when she looked up at him nervously. "I had a great time with you tonight, Hermione."

She looked down at her hands nervously. "We are going to be staying in Wales all summer." She said hesitantly. "Maybe we could do it again some time?" Her eyes were so full of hope, he couldn't possibly think of denying her.

"I'd like that." He said, already thinking about the next time that they would meet. "Come on, I'll walk you to the fountain." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her to the town center, where a completely on edge Fenrir Greyback was waiting, tension visible half a block away.

He stopped, not wanting to talk to the older man if he didn't have to. Hermione turned, and before he could stop her she was throwing her arms around her neck, pressing one more quick kiss against his lips. "Goodnight Marcus." She whispered, before flouncing off to where her _papa_ was waiting, leaving him behind, blushing.

It was only after he'd watched them apparate away that he realized he had no idea how to get in contact with her.


	7. Melanie Musings

A/N: Hey guys! Thank you so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! This chapter is a little drabble, suggested by Jack Lemon, to accompany Red Right Hand. They wanted to know what was going on inside Melanie St. Martin's head, in regards to Tom Riddle. I hope that you enjoy this little drabble! Please let me know what you thought, and you can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) if you'd like to see more!

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Melanie St. Martin felt her heart skip a beat every time Tom Riddle gave her that boyish smirk that let her know he thought he was winning an argument. She knew that it was maybe a little bit wrong to constantly goad him into arguments, but she just loved seeing how _passionate_ he could be when he was arguing a point.

She used a hand to brush back some of her curly, brown hair out of her face, not so much because it was bothering her, but more to hide the little smile that flittered across her face. Oh, she had _such_ a crush on the Slytherin Prefect.

It had started out innocently enough. She spent a lot of time with him on account of her friend Mercedes being the sister of Tom's friend. They'd spent a lot of time in the Yule one winter break, and Melanie found herself drawn to him, even though she was just a silly little girl. It was clear that he was exceptionally smart and not afraid to speak his mind. What she liked most of all was that he wasn't afraid to stand up to Jeremy. Jez was just too playful, and he never knew when he took things too far.

Through the years, her crush had only gotten worse and worse as Tom Riddle grew to be more and more handsome. He had dark, dark blue eyes that she could stare into for hours, and perfect hair that she wanted to run her hands through and mess up a bit. He was always so polished, but when she was in her bedroom in the Hufflepuff dormitories, she liked to imagine what he would look like in the throes of passion.

When she'd started her OWL year, she'd found a way to get a bit closer to the pensive and ambitious boy. She'd nearly jumped at the chance when Professor Slughorn suggested Tom's name to tutor her, after she'd been devastated that the portly Professor had told her that her essay work just wasn't up to snuff to pass the exams. She'd approached Tom cautiously to ask him, but to her delight, he'd said yes.

She _tried_ to be a good student for Tom, and not go too gooey eyed in front of him. She didn't want to throw herself at him like Gemma Rowle. Not only was it embarrassing to watch, but she thought that Tom probably would respond to that kind of behavior anyway. She tried to just focus on the potions work, and not let her mind run rampant with questions on if he liked her, or if he thought she was pretty, or if he found her lips as distracting as he found hers.

To Melanie's delight, it seemed as if her answers came unexpectedly. One day, she just couldn't hold her tongue when he briefly referenced the use of aconite in werewolf repellent, and had to bring up what his thoughts were about it's use in potions for protection against vampires as well. She hadn't expected their debate to get quite so heated, but _Sweet Nimue_ did it light a fire in her belly to watch the way that Tom Riddle came _alive_. By the end of it, she was completely entranced by the slight flush of his pale cheeks, and the bob of his Adam's apple, and the way that he'd leant his body towards her's until they were nearly touching.

It was enough to have her picking little arguments with him again and again and again, wondering how far she could push him until the day that he would finally just snap and snog her silly for once. Melanie was absolutely determined to figure out what that was, and well... she wasn't about to let another school year go by without finding out.

She wasn't sure what Tom would think if she made the first move. He seemed like the kind of guy who would like to be in control of what happened, and thinking of that made her wonder just _how_ he would kiss. His lips certainly looked kissable. Would he be gentle and tender or firm and commanding? Could he do both? Oh, the thought of kissing him just made her head spin.

Would he ever kiss her out of the blue, or was he the kind of guy who would want to take you out on a date or two before he'd give you the most mind blowing kiss?

Merlin, it was just about all that she could think about. Melanie just knew that she was going to fail potions if she couldn't stop making doe eyes at the handsome Slytherin who'd grown to be her friend. But her crush was so deep that she couldn't stop imagining what life would be like as Mrs. Melanie Riddle.


	8. Fenrir & Hermione Tattoo Shop

A/N: So this is a stand alone story that was written for a modern au quote prompt I got on tumblr. It was given to me by an anon, and was just 'Tattoo artist/flower shop owner au' for Fenrir x Hermione. Well, y'all know that I love this pairing. This is a bit expanded from what I've written on tumblr. I would love to hear what you thought!

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When that damn flower shop had gone in next door to his tattoo parlor, Fenrir had been annoyed. It was much too sweet and girly and it didn't really fit in with the ambience he had going. The flower shop was all sunshine, sugar and roses and he was more black leather, spice and motorcycles.

The flower shop had an equally annoying flower shop girl owner, who irritated him just as much. She was puny compared to his size, and did everything she could to shrink away from attention, except do something about that _wild_ hair of her's that was impossible not to notice. It didn't take a whole lot to realize that she was terrified of him, based on the way that her body leaned _away_ from him, always. It was as if she were afraid he would brush up against her, dirtying her very soul. Fenrir hated that.

That was until the day that the owner made an appointment to come get a tattoo. Now, he'd seen flower shop girl every morning for the past six months seeing as they both opened their shops at the same time of day, and closed around the same time too, and Miss Priss was the last person he could have imagined coming to get a tattoo from _him_.

Still, she'd come through his doors that day, on her lunch break she'd nervously told him, and asked for a consultation. He wasn't entirely sure why he agreed to it, knowing that it was just going to take him time and energy to draw up whatever silly design she wanted, only to have her chicken out from getting the actual tattoo.

She'd nibbled her lip, pulling down the sleeves of her ratty old cardigan which was at least two sizes too big for her while she sat in the chair through her consultation. Hermione - her name was Hermione, he'd learned - told him that she wanted a few flowers across the inside of her wrist, and he'd tried to talk her out of it, thinking it would be more painful than she could handle. He knew girls like her, who just wanted something _cute_ , only to panic when the pain was too great, but the ink was already under their skin.

"No, you don't understand." She'd said, pushing her sleeve up and shoving her hand in his larger one, completely unphased by his touching her.

He almost didn't realize what he was looking at at first, but everything quickly came into focus. There, plain as day, was a silvery scar standing out from her skin. Fenrir rubbed his fingertips over the word carved into her impossibly small wrist. "Mudblood? What does that mean?" He asked.

She didn't shrink back from him, instead squaring her shoulders. "Just a little souvenir from my ex-boyfriend's family…they wanted me to remember that I would always just be working class, mud, compared to them."

Fenrir was sure that his face was horrified at the thought of someone, anyone, harming _this_ woman. "Was he worth it?" He found himself asking. He looked down at the colorful inks he'd gathered, horrified at his asking such an impertinent question.

To his surprise, she just laughed, a bitter little laugh. "No, Draco was...well, he was useless really. He just stood there watching me, while his aunt pinned me down and carved into me with this knife." Hermione whispered. "We broke up not long after that, when I realized I'd never be able to trust him...feel safe around him again."

He nodded. "I don't blame you." He looked up at her, his breath caught in his throat at the sight of light brown irises observing his every mood with interest. She was really quite pretty, he thought, though she was tried to cover it up. What intrigued him more was her strength.

She hissed at the first sting of the needle penetrating her flesh, but she quickly relaxed under his gentle touch. "You make me feel safe." She said, so quietly, Fenrir almost thought that he'd imagined it.

He wasn't sure what to say to that, so he kept his eyes on her wrist. In that moment, Fenrir realized that Hermione Granger was so much stronger than he'd ever given her credit for. And she wasn't all sunshine and roses either. She was trying to move on with her life, taking control of it once again.

A few hours later, with no tears, her scar was hidden amongst the yellow and white centers of some brilliant blue pansies. Three of them. It was really one of the most beautiful pieces he'd ever done. He was almost shocked that he had been able to create something so _pure_ with his large hands, more designed to cause pain than to erase it.

Now that he was done with the tattoo, though, he found he didn't want to let go her hand just yet. "So…you did say ex-boyfriend, right?" He asked, not feeling like the big tough guy he was. For some reason, he wanted to show her that he was more than just a tattoo artist, too.

Hermione bit her lower lip, trying to hide a smile from him. "Yes."

"Would you like to get a drink later tonight?" He asked tentatively, knowing that their shops closed at similar times. He couldn't remember feeling so nervous about asking another girl on a date, but there was something about the flower shop girl that was different than other girls.

"I would love that." She agreed, eager to learn more about the man that Fenrir Greyback was, even if it meant putting herself out on the dating scene for the first time in over six months. Somehow, she thought that Fenrir wasn't really into the typical dating scene, though.

"Great, I'll swing by after close then." He said, actually feeling eager to walk by that damn floral shop for a change.


	9. Sirius & Hermione Cops and Murderers

A/N: Hey babes! This is another modern au drabble prompt from tumblr that I wrote a while ago. The prompt was suggested by cece2046 and it was for a Sirimione where Sirius was the copy and Hermione was a gangster. He is trying to pick her up for a murder. I hope that you enjoy it - Hermione is a little bit ruthless in this one.

Please let me know what you thought!

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Detective Sirius Black couldn't believe his luck when he stumbled into the bar and saw her sitting there so primly, reading a book. Anyone who saw her would think she was a pretty woman, probably a little too good to be sitting in a pub like this, but he knew better.

Sitting there at the bar, looking as though she was drinking tea with the Queen of England was Hermione "Mudblood" Granger, one of the inner circle of a dangerous and violent drug trafficking ring called the Death Eaters. What had started out as a high class cocaine operation in the various prep schools had expanded into a vast drug empire when this unassuming woman came in, showing them how to cook crack and sell to the lower social classes. They were willing to kill anyone who got in their way and he believed they were responsible for the death of one of his confidential informants, Marietta Edgecomb.

Sliding into the chair next to her, Sirius gave her one of his most charming smiles – a smile that had helped him to pull more than his fair share of ladies – and tried not to groan at the way her tight red dress hugged every curve of her body. "Can I buy you a drink?" He asked, suavely.

She looked up from her book – a huge, dry looking thing for a drug trafficker, Sirius thought – and pushed her wild hair over his shoulder, giving him a smirk. "Of course you can, but will you buy me the right one?"

Accepting the challenge, Sirius tried to think of what she might like to drink. Ordering himself a scotch - neat - and her a dirty martini, he waited in silence, suddenly feeling very awkward, like this was his first time talking to a woman. How on Earth was one meant to flirt with a hardened criminal like Granger? When the barman brought back their drinks, Hermione rolled her eyes at him, before grabbing his scotch and taking a dainty sip. "You guessed wrong." She said, before pushing the martini in his direction.

Barking out a laugh at her boldness, Sirius took a drink of the martini, agreeing that perhaps he had read her wrong. She wasn't anything like the women he usually tried to chat up, tottering along in heels too tall for them. Spinning in his seat so that he could face her, he pushed an errant curl behind her ear, watching as she stiffened from his touch. "So, what is a woman like you doing in a bar like this?"

Hermione relaxed and smirked at him, before turning to face him. He was temporarily distracted by her body, just the barest hint of cleavage peeking out of the top of her scoop necked dress. Unable to help himself, he ran his fingertip over her collarbones, enjoying the way that she shuddered under his touch.

That was, until she grabbed his finger and squeezed it so hard he thought she was going to crush the bone. "I think we both know why I am here, Detective." She said, obviously feeling rather pleased with herself.

Sirius could barely contain his surprise, letting her know that she'd hit the nail spot on. "How do you know I am a cop?" He pressed. He'd always prided himself on his ability to blend in.

She laughed, a bright tinkling sound that he wanted to hear again and again. "Please, I knew you were a cop the moment you walked in." She said, nibbling on her lower lip. "So, who sent you? Narcos? Vice?" She sounded genuinely curious, like a child who couldn't stop asking the question 'why?'.

He felt his eyebrows rise in surprise…had the Death Eaters gotten mixed up into prostitution too? Or was it just a clever ploy from her, in case he didn't actually know who she was? "Homicide, actually." He told her, taking a gulp of his martini, feeling very exposed. He knew that this woman was dangerous, and he couldn't help but wonder where she'd keep a gun in a dress so tight, his mind conjuring all sorts of naughty ideas.

"Homicide?" Hermione asked, actually sounding surprised. "Just who do you think I killed?"

"Marietta Edgecomb." Sirius said. "I've seen your past handiwork with the girl. Quite brutal of you." He remembered visiting Edgecomb in the hospital, the girl in tears because her forehead had been cut up as a warning to others. She'd named Hermione Granger as the one who'd wielded the knife. Three months later and the deep, pink scars still gave Sirius the creeps.

Hermione frowned. "That little snitch deserved what I did to her. I warned her when we first met what would happen if she was caught working with the police, guess she didn't get the message."

"Sounds like you have reason to want her dead." Sirius mused.

She slammed the rest of the scotch in a single drink, not flinching. "I didn't kill her. I think that my message definitely sunk in."

"Maybe we should go down to the station and talk more about it." Sirius offered, sensing that Hermione was more than just a little bit worried about coming up in a homicide investigation. He just wondered if it was because she was guilty or because she hadn't realized what her gang got up to while she was away.

Hermione stood up furious, grabbing her camel coat from the back of her chair. "I know my rights, Detective, so no, I won't go downtown with you. If you have any more questions for me, call my lawyer." She stomped out of the bar in her tall heels, commanding the attention of the room.

Sirius sighed, watching her go. She was the most intriguing woman he'd encountered in a long time. He wasn't sure if he wanted to fuck her or lock her up, but she was absolutely in his blood now, and he wouldn't rest until he figured her out.


	10. Theo & Hermione Unrequited

A/N: Hey babes! This chapter is technically a Theo x Hermione, but not really. This one is dedicated to julist, who has been so super supportive of my writing throughout the years and throughout the pairings, lol! This one seems a little dramatic, but it is meant to be a companion piece to a story that I will be getting started on soon, hopefully! It will be a Daphne x Theo and I hope that it is titled Whistle For the Choir (haha, I have been wanting to use that title forever!). So I hope you will keep an eye out for that. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates, and answer questions!

Please let me know what you thought of this!

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He wasn't entirely sure when it happened to him, but Theodore Nott found himself head over heels for a girl. Everytime he was with her, his could feel his heart pounding away against chest, so loud that he was sure that she probably could hear it too. His palms would get sweaty and make his quill slip, leaving his normally impeccable handwriting into a terrible mess that he was sure his late mum would be horrified to see.

And just who was it that had captured his attention, without even being aware of it? None other than the Gryffindor golden girl herself, Hermione Granger.

She was perfect.

Well, she'd always been perfect, since the first day that she walked into Hogwarts. Perfect marks, perfect uniform, perfect life. Everyone in the entire school knew who she was and knew that she was going places since she was eleven. Not like Theo Nott, who had excellent marks himself, excellent breeding, but no one paid him half a mind. No one whispered that Theo Nott was going places, as he was content to just fly below the radar. Anonymous.

Theo had never given Hermione Granger a second thought in his life until he started working with her during their so called Eighth Year. She had to show off how perfect she was by being a friend to the _disgraced_ Slytherins. She made a big speech about how they all deserved second chances, that they'd all been misjudged, and that she was _willing_ to leave the past in the past, if they were too. It was a little self-righteous speech that had him, Daphne, Pansy and Draco giggling away at the way that she acted.

And he might have stayed thinking that she was just an annoying swot with a stick up her self-righteous arse, if he hadn't been paired with her for an arithmancy assignment. He was annoyed with her at first, but slowly, surely, things began to change. He quickly began to see that she was so much more than he ever thought. She was much more than just a swot. She liked kneazles and oranges and she enjoyed a muggle sport called football that Theo actually took the time to learn about. She revealed to him that she always hated the way that Ron and Harry had counted on her to help with her homework.

She was genuinely interested in him too. Asked him why he liked thestrals so much. Listened to him when he revealed that he'd watched his father murder his mother. Talked to him about his favorite Quidditch squad, or what he wanted to do after Hogwarts. She didn't _expect_ anything of him.

They became friends.

And that was when he started seeing her through new eyes. Pink lips parted to show off perfectly straight white teeth. Brown eyes that Draco had once described as mudblood brown now seemed more like the sweetest toffee. The sunlight streaming in through the dusty windows of the library shined on light brown, curly hair. Oh Salazar, what he wouldn't give to run his fingers through that wild hair.

Theo felt his breath catch in his throat whenever she smiled at him. Theo Nott was head over heels for Hermione Granger.

And it made him feel like dragon shite.

Because he knew that she could never return those feelings. They were destined to remain unrequited.

Hermione had revealed to him one afternoon with quite, excited whispers that she and Viktor Krum had just resumed their relationship. The Bulgarian _beefcake_ , as he'd once been described, had swept Hermione off of her feet at the Yule Ball in fourth year, and they'd never stopped writing each other. Now that Krum had been traded to a Quidditch squad in England, they had been going on dates in Hogsmeade, but they were trying to keep it quiet, seeing as the press had been so rude to her last time around.

Theo had been absolutely crushed, unreasonably so, and once he found his voice over the lump in his throat, he'd made a passing comment about how disappointed Weasley must be.

But even if there was no Viktor Krum, or if Theo could somehow gather his courage like a Gryffindor would, and by some miracle, she actually felt the same way about him as he felt about her, they was still no way that they could be together. Because Theo was betrothed to Daphne Greengrass, and he had been since the age of six. It was the kind of pureblood betrothal that had been outlawed well before Theo had been born, but anyone in the circles that his parents had run in still practiced anyway. And there was no way to break blood magic.

So, instead, Theo would spend his days, knowing that Daphne despised him, and Hermione Granger would only ever see him as a friend, and he would drown in his feelings, unrequited.


	11. Radalphus & Hermione Côte D'Azur

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! This one is a companion piece to Red Right Hand, for 2000th reviewer, VioletBuckbeak! They wanted a romantic scene with Radalphus and Hermione so I hope you enjoy this little bit of TLC you can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!

Please let me know what you thought!

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Hermione had been through a lot in the last few months. Not only had she found out that her son was not who she thought he was - and that he'd kept a terrible secret from her for so many years - he'd also been elected as the youngest Minister of Magic ever. She'd forgotten how awful it was to have the press hounding you, following your every move, and trying to paint you to be someone you weren't.

It was a little bit easier now that she'd told Radalphus the truth, and that she was from the future. She could explain to him about the time that an Internationally famous Quidditch player by the name of Viktor Krum had taken her to a ball, and then the press had _hated_ her, printing terrible lies and turning even one of her best friend's mother's against her. "I didn't know that you had a taste for famous wizards, ma mie." He had teased her, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose once she'd huffed at him.

Radalphus, upon hearing that she was distressed, did two things. First was write a note to his step-son, the Minister of Magic, telling him that press was bothering his mother. Despite the fact that he had serious reservations about what Tom Riddle was capable of, he did love Hermione fiercely, and he had a way of getting things done. The next thing that he did was arrange for them to return to his ancestral home in the south of France.

"My love, come, let me whisk you away for a weekend of romance." He had whispered in her ear one afternoon in the summer. "Edmond is watching Delph and Thibaut - they are having a 'boys weekend' and don't ask me what that is when it involves one child and two toddlers." He winked at his wife. "Odette has eagerly gone to stay at Tom's house, and is very excited to help watch niece Pippa."

"Oh, I don't know, Radalphus." Hermione said with a kiss. "I don't want her to bother Melanie, with such a new baby." Pippa had been born only a month earlier, and she knew how overwhelmed Melanie had been, despite Hermione's numerous offers of help.

"My darling, you know that our daughter loves her brother more than anything." He said, pushing her hair back over her shoulder, so that he could press hot, open mouthed kisses against her neck and shoulder. "She will behave while we are gone. Besides, it is only for a week. When was the last time that we had any alone time?"

It didn't take her long to give into him. To be honest, she couldn't remember the last time that she had a vacation, let alone one without her children. She was going to miss them, of course, but she could really do with a bit of romance after the year that she had. She'd packed quickly, and before she knew it they were in the International portkey office, and spinning away to the Cote d'Azur.

Radalphus's house was simple, but had gorgeous views overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. Once they set their bag down, they went for a walk down through the old town. Hermione felt rather chic, wearing a white, airy sundress and huge straw hat. Being from the future meant that she was usually on the forefront of most of the muggle trends. They had to keep their sandals one while they walked on the beach, the scorching sun having made the sand hot enough to burn. She even convinced him to wade into the water up to their calves to cool off a bit.

After the beach, he took her through the old fish market, greeting nearly every sun weathered mariner, and introducing her in turn. They were bringing in the evening catch, and Radalphus knew exactly what to order. They returned home, with Radalphus teasing her about how pink she'd turned from the sun, and Hermione cursed herself for not wearing sunscreen. He then shooed her to rest, while he set about preparing them dinner.

They ate on the balcony off of Radalphus's bedroom, watching the setting sun dance along the water. It was absolutely breathtaking and so romantic. It was times like these that she knew she loved Radalphus still, even after all the years and all of the drama.

Their dishes banished, Radalphus pulled Hermione into his lap. "Do you remember once, my love, that I promised you I would take you here on the balcony, the warmth of the sun at our backs?"

She blushed at his pronouncement, but nodded anyway. How could she ever forget such a promise? She looked around and confident that no one would be able to see them, she leaned against him, pulling him into a sensuous kiss. They moved slowly against one another, quickly building up into a frenzy of hands, touches and kisses. Having been together for so long, Radalphus always knew _exactly_ where to touch her. His fingers slid up the inside of her thigh, and she opened herself to him.

Gasping when she felt his fingers play with her sex, she could feel herself become exceedingly wet. She rocked her hips in insistent little circles, feeling his hardened cock pressed against her arse. Just when she was finally close, he stopped, breathing heavily into her ear. "Please, my love, I cannot wait for you a moment longer." He begged.

Hermione stood from his lap, waiting for him to unfasten his trousers, revealing his hard member to her, before she sat back down astride his body, her dressed pulled up to her hips. She sighed at the feeling of him entering her, and they quickly built up to a familiar rhythm that had them both gasping. The new positioning of their bodies felt different, in a glorious way, and was hitting her in all the right places.

With her face buried into his neck, she let his hands on her hips guide her, until she was coming, his name breathless on her lips, barely more than a whisper. Her walls fluttered around him, making him lose focus and he thrust more erratically into her, until she could feel him follow her over the cliff to bliss.

They stayed there, catching their breath together. Hermione couldn't stop the tiny laugh from bubbling up from her chest, as she was so filled with love for this man. "Thank you for convincing me to go on vacation, Radalphus. I didn't know how much I needed it."

"It's my pleasure, ma mie." He told her, looking deeply into her eyes. "And it is only our first day here. I intend to make sure you fully _enjoy_ yourself for our remaining time here." He promised, pressing a kiss to her forehead, nose and finally her lips.


	12. Fenrir & Hermione Baby

A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! This one is a companion piece to Over the Hills and Far Away for 500th reviewer, meldz! It's a look a little bit further into Hermione and Fenrir's future, so if you haven't read the story, you might want to go back and read it. Oh, and further inspiration came from windyshoes who is drawing a beautiful piece for the story, and included a milkshake - so of course I had to too! It was just too cute! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of this one!

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Hermione couldn't stop tapping her leg under the table while she waited for the waitress to bring their butterscotch shake over. Her teeth gnawed insistently at the corner of her thumb nail, while she was under the weight of Fenrir's intense stare. She knew that he was suspicious of the reason that she'd asked him to meet her at this little dinner in the middle of the work day, and well, she was going to tell him, but she needed to build up the courage first. She'd hoped that having the shake would make things a bit easier.

Her eyes traced over the hardness of her boyfriend's face. They had been dating for over five years now, and Hermione felt as though she had cataloged each and every one of his expressions.

Jaw clenched and eyes narrowed meant that he was torn between being worried about her and being absolutely annoyed with her. The tiny bob of his Adam's apple meant that he was about to speak, but was still searching for the right words.

They were saved by the waitress at the greasy spoon diner bringing them over their shake - two straws, with a cherry on top, but no whipped cream. The thought of whipped cream was making her queasy. Hermione took a pull from the straw, letting the cloying sweetness bolster her, making her body feel a little bit less shaky.

Fenrir's intense blue eyes dipped down to her mouth around the straw, darkening with lust for a moment, before he snapped his gaze back up. He slammed his fist down on the table. "Are you going to tell me what the fuck we are doing here? I don't think I've ever seen you drink a shake once in my life. What's going on, Hermione?"

She might have been a little bit vague in her text, asking him to pick her up from work. She had something that she needed to talk to him about. After finishing her undergrad in record time, Hermione had gone on to complete her law degree. She passed the bar exam in Arizona, and had several offers, but instead decided to come back to the tiny town where Sirius and Fenrir still lived. She ended up working to represent old sunburnt farmers from all across the county in negotiations with the new rash of renewable energy companies who wanted to come in and lease land to build wind farms or solar farms. Hermione liked to think that she did a good job in helping them get a fair price. She'd even helped settle some mineral rights issues with a few of the oil and gas companies too. She always took on any legal representation that the Iron Wolves needed too.

But, today, she'd finally had to face the fact that something was wrong after she'd throw up her lunch for the fourth time that week. She'd trudged her way over to the drug store and purchased a pregnancy test, and it had come up positive.

Of course, she and Fenrir had never planned something like this. She'd been on the Pill since her junior year of highschool, and of course, she knew that it wasn't 100% effective, but she was always so careful about taking it, and now she was worried that Fenrir would be furious about it. She couldn't wait to tell him and had arranged for him to meet her there.

"Hermione?" He prodded, his voice dropping to a lower timbre. He was so large that he seemed to take up the space of the whole booth, his knees pressing into her's. He leaned over the table, taking her hand in his, gently. "Whatever it is, I am sure that I can help you. You just have to tell me."

"Okay, I don't really know how to say this, so I am just going to say it." Hermione said, causing Fenrir to crack a grin. "I am - I am pregnant. Pregnant. I am going to have a baby. We are going to have a baby."

She knew that she was rambling, but she needed to fill in the empty space between them. Fenrir was looking rather dumbstruck at her. "I know that we didn't plan on this, and well, I realize that I never even asked if you wanted kids or where you saw our relationship going. I mean, it's been a few years, so that's pretty serious...but I guess, I don't know if you thought it was serious."

"A baby?" He said, all sorts of emotions racing across his face, too quickly for Hermione to identify any one individually. "You are going to have my baby?" Slowly, his face morphed into a broad grin - one so big that Hermione couldn't remember ever seeing him smile like that.

She broke out into a giggle, his excitement contagious. "Well, of course it's your baby. What did you think it was an Immaculate Conception or something?" She teased.

Fenrir was already standing up from his side of the booth, though, before slipping into her side with her. He pulled her to sit in his lap, a difficult feat in the small booth, before capturing her lips in a dominating kiss. Hermione melted against him, feeling giddy and excited, so relieved that Fenrir had actually been excited about their future, rather than deciding to leave her, which is what her very active imagination had come up with.

Realizing that he was getting a little bit too hot and heavy for public, Hermione broke the kiss, turning her face away from him. Fenrir rubbed the scruff of his beard against her cheek, before covering her neck with hot, open mouthed kisses, sending a thrill up her spine. He pressed his large hand against her yet flat stomach, and Hermione couldn't take her eyes off of the sight. "You are carrying my child. This is a...a wonderful thing, Peach." He pressed another kiss to her cheek, when she brought her own tiny hand to rest on top of his.

Only then, he dropped his head back to lean against the booth, groaning, as he just remembered something. "Sirius. I am going to have to tell Sirius that I knocked you up." He said, his face suddenly worried once again. "He's going to castrate me."

Hermione couldn't stop her laugh, and pressed a kiss to his nose. "Don't worry. I will protect you from him. Besides, we're happy, so he'll be happy." She said with a grin. "You are happy, right?" She couldn't help but ask for reassurance, just _one_ more time.

"I am fucking thrilled." He said with a grin. "You've made me the happiest man, Peach."


	13. The Ballad of Irma Crabbe

A/N: Hey guys! I am so glad you enjoyed the last chapter - it's near and dear to my heart now! This one is a companion piece for Red Right Hand, looking into the life of Irma Black, nee Crabbe, mistress of Cygnus. It was suggested by Andree 07, who wanted to see what was up with Irma after Cygnus died, and I just had to write it. I hope you enjoy! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you think of this!

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"Your looks are going to get you in trouble one day." Her mother had warned her time and time again, but never once did Irma Crabbe believe her. Now, decades passed, she wished she never would have caught the eye of Cygnus Black because then, maybe, her heart wouldn't be smashed into so many pieces.

It was true that she was a comely girl. She'd always had long red hair that looked like spun fire, straight and thick, and it once made one of her Slytherin roommates so jealous that she jinxed Irma's hair to fall out of her head. Luckily, it was nothing that the matron couldn't fix. Her eyes were brown, but a rich, warm brown that she always got compliments on. Her skin was pale, but did not freckle like the Weasleys did. And once she'd entered her seventh year at Hogwarts, she had most of the boys panting after her figure.

Once she had graduated, Irma had moved through life, a bit listlessly, attending this party and that, but she felt her life never really began until she met Cygnus Black. Oh, the first time that he'd asked her to dance, she thought that she must have died and gone to heaven. He had a very handsome face, blond hair that fell in elegant waves, and the most unusual grey eyes. She could have stared into them for hours.

She didn't give into him at first, knowing that she _should_ keep her virtue for the time that her parents found a suitable match for her, but eventually Cygnus and his perfect lips persuaded her. Their affair had been passionate, wild and romantic, spanning six countries and several months before the inevitable occurred.

Irma fell pregnant.

Oh, she'd never been more angry in her life, when Cygnus told her that she would marry his twelve year old son Pollux. She didn't want Pollux, she wanted him! He promised that he would be there for her, for their child, and that their relationship would go on as normal, but there was no way that he could leave Violetta. He told her he loved her.

And oh, Irma was never more positive that she loved Cygnus Black with all her heart.

The wedding was a quiet affair and she became Irma Black, but with the wrong husband. Walburga was born a few months later, with her father's blonde hair and grey eyes. Pollux never seemed to understand that he wasn't the father then. No, that came later, after she fell pregnant a second time. By that point, Violetta was dead, and Irma begged Cygnus to let them be a proper family, _finally_ , but this time, Pollux was in the way. There was no way to break the bonds that tied her to the man she never wanted.

She thought that she could handle it, to continue on the way that she always had, until Cygnus married that French tart. Hermione came into their lives and that was when everything started to go downhill. Why should Cygnus want to remarry, Irma wondered? Was it because her looks were fading slowly? Was it because she was no longer a youthful eighteen, as she had been when he met her all those years ago?

When Hermione came into their lives, Irma began to notice that Cygnus had other lovers as well, that she was not his only mistress as he claimed. He became obsessed with the idea that Hermione should bear him an heir and would stop at nothing to make it so. What was wrong with the children that she had given him? Would he love a child by Hermione more than he loved Walburga or Alphard?

Cygnus was unable to father a child on Hermione, and unable to father another child on Irma too. She watched as the man she love came to doubt his very essence as each month went by, and she became more and more convinced that Hermione was the cause of all their problems. It drove Cygnus to drink heavily, and he became mean, horrid to her. She gave birth to a baby that she was certain was Pollux's and it only drove them further apart.

He drank constantly then, and turned her away at every chance that he could, until one day, he died. Irma had been devastated when she heard the news, but had to confine her emotions to her bedroom, lest anyone wonder why a daughter-in-law be so upset about the passing of her husband's father. She was positive that Hermione had something to do with the death, perhaps even murder, but the aurors had found no evidence to suggest that it wasn't to do with his drinking.

She cried for weeks after Cygnus died, until finally Pollux sat her down and told her that she could have one more day before she had to move on, because the children were asking questions.

And here she sat, years later, her red hair no longer as vibrant, her skin not as dewey, and she realized that she had nothing left. Walburga had made a horrible match for herself, in her cousin, Orion Black, but what their paterfamilias said was law, and so her daughter would marry. Alphard would have no matches at all when it became clear to her that he was not interested in the fairer sex. And her husband, Pollux, was trying to foist his own pregnant mistress on their youngest child. Cygnus.

When Irma looked at Druella Rosier, she saw echoes of her own past. She wondered if Druella's mother had also warned her that her looks would bring her nothing but trouble, and if she were as miserable at the prospect of marrying a pubescent boy as Irma had been. She wondered if Pollux were making the same promises to Druella that Cygnus had made to her. She wondered if Druella loved him.

Because Irma had _loved_ Cygnus, even down to the bitter end. But now, she didn't know how much longer she could go on without him.


	14. Antonin & Hermione Instagram

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! This was created as a tumblr prompt, not so long ago, but I expanded it a little bit here. It's a modern AU. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates, and answer questions. You could even send me a prompt there too if you wanted :)

Please let me know what you thought!

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She wasn't sure if it was the warm rays of sunshine that woke her up or not, but Hermione was absolutely positive she did not want to get up for the day. If she had it her way, she would spend all day in bed, naked, with Antonin. They had had a very nice evening the night before, having gone to the ballet, and then out to a popular wine bar afterwards, only to return home, eager for one another. She didn't see why their weekend fun didn't have to continue into the next morning.

Reaching her toes out, she ran her foot up his calf, trying to entice him into some more pleasurable activities. The action was ruined by the noise of her tiny, little yawn, and Antonin's responding throaty chuckle. "Good morning, kotyonok." He whispered.

Hermione tried desperately not to smile, but the corners of her lips turned up at his term of endearment. Antonin always said she was like a kitten, not just because of her feisty behavior, but because of the way that she purred and the way that she liked to be pet, even if that assessment made her blush. She nuzzled her face further into the pillow. "Morning Antonin." She kept her eyes shut tight, not wanting to get up quite yet.

She could feel him push some of her hair out of her face, and pull the blanket slightly higher to drape over her naked form. She knew that he was posing her, and tried to keep her face as relaxed as possible. It was just a hazard of having an amateur photographer as a boyfriend, she supposed. He was always seeing little actions and activities as the perfect shot, like the time he'd taken her photo walking into the sunset along the beach. That was now framed in their living room.

The click of his phone's camera echoed in the bedroom. Antonin rolled onto his back, his fingers rapidly typing away on his phone, before he set the phone on the nightstand with finality.

Rolling over, he pulled her body closer to his, pulling down the blanket, exposing her breasts to him. His finger traced over pink nipple, loving the way it pebbled under his touch. He kissed her slowly, sensuously, promising a very delightful morning. Hermione sighed into him, her fingers delving into his wavy, dark hair, holding him to her just as she wanted him.

The phone buzzed on the nightstand. Hermione's eyes shot open in surprise, but she was quickly distracted by Antonin's tongue sliding against her own. She moaned into him, feeling her center throb at the action.

 _Buzz buzz. Buzz buzz._

Hermione started to get suspicious. Pulling away from her boyfriend, she narrowed her eyes at him. "Antonin, did you put that picture on Instagram?" She accused, feeling a bit of anxiety at the action sink into her bones.

Unapologetically, wanting to get back to her sweet lips, Antonin shrugged his broad shoulders. "Yeah."

"But Antonin, I am naked!" She cried, not wanting some kind of raunchy photo of herself on his Instagram. She'd certainly never agree to that.

"Exactly, so don't you want to take advantage of that fact before we have to meet Luna and Rabastan for brunch?" He asked, obviously not bothered at all by the idea of thousands of internet strangers - and worse, their close friends - seeing her nude form. It was a bit of a surprise, seeing as Antonin was usually very possessive of her. Though, she supposed that he did seem to like showing off what he did have, if only to show everyone else what they were missing.

"Delete that immediately!" She practically shrieked, throwing herself on top of him in an effort to reach the phone, only to have it remain, sadly, out of her grasp.

Antonin sighed, rolling back into his back, before grabbing the phone off of the nightstand. "I would never post a nude photo of you on the internet, kotyonok." He said, pulling up his instagram app and handing the phone to her.

Her breath was taken away from the artful and beautiful photo. The sunlight made the white sheet slightly sheer, so you could see the outline of her body under the covers, but nothing explicit was exposed. It was sexy and innocent and pure, and she was amazed that this was the way Antonin saw her when he looked at her. She never really thought of herself as gorgeous, but there was no denying that the woman captured in the photo was. "I get to wake up to the best view every morning." He'd captioned it, along with some sparse hashtags, and no emojis. Antonin never did emojis. Short and to the point.

Her eyes nearly popped out of her skull at seeing the number of likes it already had, barely even up for five minutes. Really, she shouldn't be surprised considering the subject of the photo and Antonin's wide following on the social media site, but still, it was her. She couldn't believe that she was quite so popular.

Hermione gave her boyfriend a shy smile. "Alright, maybe I overreacted. You don't have to delete it." It was really very tasteful, and she never would have doubted him. Flicking her thumb up the screen, she decided to go through some of the comments. Her eyes narrowed while she was reading them, particularly one from Antonin's lecherous friend. "But you have to have a talk with Yaxley about his comment. I will NOT be hashtag freeing the nipple."

Antonin laughed, pulling the phone from her hand and pinning her hands above her head. He was going to take full advantage of the rest of their sleepy morning together. He was determined to do much more than just enjoy the view.


	15. Cassiopeia

A/N: Hey babes! Thanks so much for your reviews, favorites and follows from last chapter! I am so glad that you enjoyed that bit of modern au fluff! This one goes with Red Right Hand, and it is a check in with Cassiopeia Black, who has left England and has move to France. It was suggested by holysheepfan on tumblr, so thanks for the prompt! Sorry it took me forever to get to this prompt...I wasn't sure how I wanted to talk it.

Please let me know what you thought of this one!

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"No, don't get up." Cassiopeia said sarcastically, at her lover's snoring form, apparently completely unmoved by the insessant tapping on the glass pane of the window, by a windswept owl. "I've got it." Pulling on a silk robe - a present from her current beau, all the way from China - Cassiopeia covered her nude form from the chill of her apartment. Letting the owl in, she sighed, enjoying the brisk feeling of the wind on her face, before shutting it again. She'd drank too much the night before and her head was pounding.

Opening the scroll and reading it with eager eyes, she was annoyed to see it was from her little sister Dorea. Perfect little Dorea, who made a match with a blood traitor family. Perfect little Dorea who'd idolized that tart Hermione Millefeuille from the first day she'd met the witch, not caring an ounce that Millefeuille was the same witch who destroyed the Black family, and now had sunk her claws in the Lestrange family as well. Though, Cassiopeia couldn't blame the witch. Radalphus Lestrange was a very good looking man. She should have insisted that her daddy make a match between her an the widower while Cygnus had still been alive.

Cassiopeia cursed herself for not trusting her first instincts when she'd met her new step-mother. She'd suspected that the young witch, only a few years older than Cassiopeia herself, was nothing more than a gold-digger, after the Black family fortune. She was especially disturbed to learn that the woman had taken in her cousin's child and had been trying to raise it on her own. She'd told her father that the story was suspect, but he's informed her that Hermione's story was the truth. She shuddered to think how he'd determined that. Then, she'd only that Pollux to gossip about the foreign witch with, seeing as Dorea and Marius were enamored with her.

There had been a moment in time that Cassiopeia had thought that maybe she had misjudged Hermione, after the brunette helped her cover up a little indiscretion with a boy from her year, an indiscretion that ended up costing her any chance of finding a respectable marriage contract, no matter how hard her daddy had tried. Cassiopeia was reminded then of the horrible curse that Hermione had put on her, determining that she would die sad and alone.

The worst of it was that it was actually coming true. Her father had slipped into alcoholism, no longer able to father children until the birth of Delphinus, but he'd died shortly after. Cassiopeia was glad that he wasn't alive to see his son passed off as a Lestrange - or perhaps, a Lestrange passed off as a Black. Hermione's demon spawn, the unnerving and unnatural Tom _Riddle_ \- such a common, _muggle_ name - had somehow managed to pull the wool over everyone's eyes and secure the post of Minister of Magic for himself. And that was when Pollux pulled away as well.

Cassiopeia could still remember the last time that her older brother had come to visit her in France. Somehow he'd managed to scold her for keeping a lover without any regard for appearances, while simultaneously telling her that his own mistress was due to have his child. Cassiopeia insisted that he marry his son to the witch - a Druella Rosier, who was a consummate social climber, and who should be thrilled at the prospect of such a match - but Pollux had declined.

He was 'breaking the cycle' of unhappy marriages in their family, determining that it wouldn't become a fourth generation tradition. He wanted a better life for Cygnus than he'd had, having his father's mistress foisted on him. Cassiopeia had been aghast that he would suggest such an occurrence, but Pollux was resolute. His only child was Cygnus III, though he loved Wally and Alphard as though they were his own. "We've decided to call her Bellatrix." He said with a grin on his face, hints of grey peaking in near his temples, giving him a distinguished look, reminding her so much of their grandfather Phineas. "She will still have my name, and I will recognize her as my own. The Rosier's aren't thrilled, but I've promised to look after both Bellatrix and Dru."

And so, the Black family welcomed the very first bastard into their family tapestry in several centuries with Bellatrix Black.

Cassiopeia was disgusted that her brother would do that to her family, but she liked to think she'd washed her hands of them, seeing as they so clearly had washed their hands of her, leaving her alone in France.

Scowling at the letter, she was annoyed to see that it outlined Pollux's plans to marry Druella Rosier. Irma had died a year before, and they felt that it was an appropriate time to marry, though privately Cassiopeia speculated that Druella was just with child again.

She hated reading about how well everyone else was doing while she was doing so poorly, even though she realized how bitter that made her. She'd loved one man since living in Paris - a half-blood by the name of Etienne Leclerc. He'd even proposed to her, but Cassiopeia had declined, her commitment to the Black family values so strong that she couldn't sully her family tree with a half-blood. Etienne, unwilling to continue a relationship that wasn't going anywhere left her heartbroken.

After him, she had a string of lovers, but none of them ever made her feel the way Etienne did. She ran through them as soon as the fun of someone new wore off, keeping their gifts and the memories only, wondering how her life would have turned out if Hermione hadn't cursed her to a life of spinsterhood. Now, as she was getting older, the men seemed to flock to her less frequently. Her beauty remained, but there were always younger, fresher girls, who didn't have the bitter outlook on life that clung to Cassiopeia like a shroud.

Hearing a particularly loud snore from the bed, she returned her attention to George, and wondered just how long this one would last.


	16. Severus & Hermione Fancy

A/N: Hey babes! Thanks so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter. This little drabble is for windyshoes, who wanted a fluffy Sevmione where they were Professors at Hogwarts...I don't know how fluffy this is, but I think it's still pretty sweet. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where you can send me drabble suggestions and questions and read sneak peaks and story updates.

Please let me know what you thought of this!

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"I am looking forward to see what your experimentation produces." Severus said, smiling indulgently at his colleague, Professor Hermione Granger.

Initially, when he learned that she was going to take over his old post, becoming the Potions Mistress at Hogwarts, he'd felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, resigning himself to annoying questions and know-it-all arguments. He'd even thought about resigning as Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts right then and there. But he'd already survived a year of Neville Longbottom as Herbology Professor, so he decided to stick it out.

He was very pleasantly surprised to learn that as a colleague, Hermione Granger was actually a joy to be around. In the months since the school year had started, they'd actually formed a friendship, and slowly, surely, that sinking feeling had transformed into a surge of raw emotion.

Severus wasn't stupid. He knew that what he felt for Hermione was more than friendship, even though it had been nearly two decades that he had left in love with anyone. He was also not stupid enough to believe that she could ever return the feeling.

"Great, I would love to maybe run through my notes with you before I start, just to be sure that I have every angle covered." Hermione responded, staring at him through sooty lashes, leading him into the great hall for dinner.

Salazar, she had transformed into a truly beautiful woman, Severus thought. Just because she didn't return his more amorous feelings didn't mean that he would dream of stopping basking in the warmth of her friendship.

"Absolutely, Hermione." He sat down in his usual spot at the table, which placed him between Hermione and Neville. "I could stop by your quarters after dinner."

"There you go, smiling at her and calling her by her first name!" Neville said, annoyed from his spot next to Severus. "Why do you only open up to Hermione, Severus?"

"I would remind you to address me as Professor Snape, Longbottom." Severus sneered at the young man, who despite his actions in the war, Severus had no intentions of ever befriending.

Longbottom scoffed in response, but before he could answer, Aurora Sinistra was butting her nose into the conversation. "I would think it would be completely obvious by now, Neville. The reason he's so friendly with her, is because he fancies her!"

Silence followed the loud statement, and Severus felt his throat constrict in agony. He was a bloody double spy in the war, when had be become so transparent that bloody Sinistra could see the truth of his feelings? Cautiously glancing at Hermione, he noticed that her cheeks were quite red, and her mouth had taken on a rather pinched look.

Not wanting to stick around for the rejection, Severus stood from the Head Table abruptly, not caring that his fork and knife clattered to the table noisily. He would never deign to run, but he did walk quickly out of the Great Hall, his robes swirling behind him, not even stopping when he heard Sinistra try and fix the situation. "Oh, Severus! It's not as though she doesn't fancy you too!"

He had gotten halfway down to the dungeons, needing to get away from the humiliation, wondering if he'd ever be able to face Hermione again, when he heard her following him. "Severus, please wait up for me!" Hermione called, jogging to meet his long strides. "Please wait we need to discuss this."

Severus was having none of it, and didn't alter his pace for a moment. The last thing he wanted to do was discuss it.

"Oh, you stubborn man!" Hermione called, before he felt a sticking charm keeping his feet in place, unable to move away. Before he could even reach his wand, Hermione was standing before him, shy smile on her face. "Aurora wasn't wrong, you know? I-I do fancy you as well. Quite a bit actually."

He stared into her brown eyes, seeing no hint of deception, and felt his heart beating so hard, he thought it might pop out of his chest. Never in a million years would he have thought Hermione could return his feelings. And of course being the brace Gryffindor that she was, she just told him, to his face.

Wordlessly, he used his wand to remove her sticking charm, taking note of the disappointment that rolled over her face, second guessing herself if perhaps she'd read the situation wrong. Not wanting to see that, he closed the gap between them, using his long fingers to tilt her head up to face him, before dipping his head down, lips pressed to hers in an urgent, needy first kiss.

Hermione moaned into him, lips parting, to suck his lower lip between her's before allowing her tongue to slide against his. Feeling the electric zing of pleasure shoot through his body, Severus wrapped his arms around her, one hand tangling in her curly hair, holding her to him, he promised that now that he knew he had Hermione Granger's love and affection, he wasn't going to let go.


	17. Viktor & Hermione Mermaid

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites, and follows! This one is dedicated to littleredsiren3101, who has always been so supportive and lovely to me! Hope you enjoy! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of this one!

* * *

Karkaroff had warned him before he could go to visit Hermione at the hospital wing, of course, but Viktor Krum was not entirely prepared to see what it was that met him. Looking impossibly tiny folded up into the tub, his date to the Yule Ball sat up to her collar bones in water, Gryffindor red tshirt clinging to her upper body, whilst the space that had once been her legs were undeniably a tail.

"Hermione…" He called out to her, snapping her attention to his presence. He dropped to his knees beside the tub, grabbing one of her warm hands inbetween his own, kissing the knuckles. He could feel hot tears spring to his eyes. "I'm sorry. Tournament has ruined everything." He knew that his accent was significantly thicker than usual, on account of his emotional state.

He'd known that they were putting something very dear to him in the lake, but he'd never once thought that it would possibly be a person. Still, who was more dear to him than his sweet Hermione, who had captivated him both in the library and her Yule dress? He'd felt such fury at seeing her suspended, seemingly asleep under the water, and he'd done everything that he could to get her free from her mermaids as quickly as possible.

Viktor hadn't realized that anything was out of the ordinary, until they had surfaced from the water, and she'd taken her first shuddering gasp. Then her second. Then her third. No matter what she tried, it seemed that his little Hermione wasn't able to catch her breath. Sensing an issue, Madame Pomfrey had taken her out of his arms, hiding her behind a curtain, only to be joined by the Karkaroff, Dumbledore, and Madame Maxine in time.

It had taken them a few hours, but eventually they found the bite. It was unusual, but not unheard of for a mermaid to bite a witch, catalyzing a rather painful transformation, turning the witch into a mermaid herself. Viktor just couldn't believe that it would actually happen to Hermione.

Even worse was the fact that it was all his fault. If only he hadn't gotten quite so attached to her, perhaps she never would have been put in danger. She wouldn't be forced to completely change her life. "It is my fault, Hermione." He whispered pushing her wet curls out of her face. "I could not protect you."

Hermione hushed him, before looking away with doleful brown eyes. "No, Viktor, it's the Ministry's fault for concocting such an insane challenge for the tournament." In her anger, her tail flicked the water, splashing him a bit. "Oh, how can you even stand to look at me?" She asked.

Viktor took a moment to admire her tail. It was a light, sea foam green color, which was a surprise to him. He didn't think he'd ever seen her wear such a color, but it was quite lovely on her. He was especially entranced by the part where it merged into the skin of her abdomen, only to be covered by the wet t-shirt. "You will alvays be beautiful to me, Hermione." He promised her, cupping her cheek in his. She turned into his hand, almost like a cat trying to leave her scent on him, and he wondered briefly if it was some kind of unbidden animal instinct. "How can I ever ask for forgiveness?"

Her eyes darted back to his, and she flushed red in embarrassment once again. "Oh Viktor…" She said, looking unbearably sad. "I am afraid it is I that must ask you for forgiveness." She nibbled on her lower lip, an action that had captivated him many times in their short relationship. "You see, well, turned mermaids like me have a trait...and well, Dumbledore has theorized that on account of your proximity during my bite and...I suppose on account of how…" Her voice caught, as though she had a lump in her throat. He knew she was on the verge of tears, as she was so thoroughly embarrassed. "How _strong_ my feelings for you are...well, I've imprinted on you."

"Imprinted?" Viktor asked, feeling a bit silly, but he wasn't sure he understood the meaning of that word entirely.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Well, it means that...Merlin, there is no easy way to say this." She took a deep breath, to gather every once of courage that she had in her body. "Viktor, what I mean to tell you is that...you are my mate." She kept her eyes on his face, searching for any hint of what he might be feeling, bur unfortunately for her, he was looking rather dumbfounded, his emotions swirling around him. She took it as a negative. "I am so sorry." She whispered again, her voice wavering. "I know that our _relationship_ is quite new, and I am sure that you never expected anything to progress past this year, and now you are not only stuck with me, but I am a _bloody_ mermaid."

Viktor wasn't sure _what_ he was feeling, but he knew that it was mostly a primal kind of possessiveness. Honestly, he hadn't thought about what their relationship would be after the tournament, mostly because he didn't ever want to let her go, and he thought that Hermione might not feel as strongly as he did about her. But now, to learn that she had such strong feelings for him that her magic had bound their fates together….it was intoxicating.

Grasping her cheeks in between his hands, he used his thumb to wipe away an escaped tear, and smiled at her broadly. "Hermione, feelings for you are...very strong as well. I am proud to be mate." He told her honestly, knowing that people would consider them a bit too young, but he didn't care a bit what other people thought.

He pressed his lips to hers in a fierce kiss, one that would show her the truth of his feelings. He felt her shudder and sigh into him once his tongue pressed against her's, delighted that she enjoyed it just as much as him. Pulling away, he was surprised to see that her tail was a pair of legs once again, and that she was considerably bare to his eyes.

Blushing, but unable to keep the grin from her face, Hermione pulled her tshirt down further to cover her modesty. "Oh, did I forget to tell you the added benefit? A kiss from my mate will...well, turn me human again, for a period of time. Dumbledore wasn't sure how long it would last, though."

Viktor returned her grin, and helped her up from the small tub. "Well, we need to experiment then. I am happy to provide kisses for you, mate." He said, feeling quite pleased with the turn of events.


	18. Tom Riddle Slither

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so glad you liked the last one - it was definitely a departure from my usual work! This one shot is so long overdue, for my lovely friend Jack Lemon! They wanted to see a little bit more of Slither in the epilogue of Red Right Hand, so this is definitely in that universe, and after the main story takes place. I hope that you enjoy this one! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where you can send me prompts or ask questions, and I post sneak peeks and story updates!

Please let me know what you thought of this, and be on the lookout for the next one soon!

* * *

Tom ran his hands through his hair, musing the normally perfectly parted coif. Despite having one of the most difficult and demanding jobs in the Wizarding World for over a decade, he still had not aged a day, a fact that he knew annoyed his _lovely_ wife, Melanie.

 _If only you knew my secret._ He though, a bit cruelly. Over the years, he could see that Melanie was perhaps the only woman that was suited to him. She didn't just give into his whims, she was always willing to argue with him. But still, he couldn't deny that he found it incredibly difficult to really connect with anyone. Aside from his mother, of course. She always seemed to understand him implicitly, and he understood her as well. He could also thank Melanie for their three beautiful children as well. Because...it was nearly an impossibility that his children should not be beautiful.

His attention was brought back to the giant tome in front of him. He found that wizarding ancestral information was unnecessarily tedious. It seemed like it wasn't difficult at the start, starting with the three Peverell brothers, but as he traced down their lines, he found that the branches begun twisting together over time, making the lineages very difficult to keep straight. It wasn't nearly as bad as the Black family, but it was still much more intermingled than he would like. He knew he wouldn't rest until he found the last Hallow, though.

" _What are you looking for, Tommy?"_ A faint hiss came from under his desk, and he sighed when he felt his old familiar curling her way up his leg. He knew most people would be incredibly frightened or repulsed by the feel of her muscular movements around her legs, but Slither was nearly as much a part of him as his wand was.

Slither had been with him since he was just a child, but his affection for her had never wavered. She'd grown larger, but she was also undeniably older now. Mice and rats were not as easy for her to catch, so Tom hid from her the fact that he charmed the mice to be slower. He couldn't bare the thought of her dying, even though he knew that her time was nearing. It was something he would have to learn to accept that as time went on.

Once she was finally draped over his shoulders, much like she had when he was just a First Year at Hogwarts, her tail still partially coiled around his chest, seeing as she was much longer than she had been as a hatchling, she could read the book over his shoulder. " _I am tracing a lineage, trying to find the last of three Deathly Hallows."_ Tom responded, hissing back at her in parselmouth. " _As you can see, there are many familiar names."_ It was true - many pureblood names, including those in the so-called sacred twenty-eight ran up and down the pages. It was difficult for him to parse out.

" _Perhaps you should ask your mother."_ Slither offered helpfully, knowing that Hermione was quite the intelligent witch, and that there was much more than meets the eye about her, even all these years later.

" _No, this is not something that I need to worry my mother with_." He responded, knowing that it was certainly something that his mother would _not_ approve of. She was highly suspicious of any of his obvious grabs for power, especially after he'd gifted her with his horcrux. He'd been naive then to think that she wouldn't know what it was.

"Not tell grandma what?" A squeaky little voice asked from the doorway. Tom cursed himself for not noticing the eager steps of his four year old son, little Tom. He was a very curious boy who had definitely inherited his father's ability to speak to snakes, as had his oldest child, Pippa. The little boy was holding onto the hand of none other than Hermione Lestrange herself, Tom's mother.

Easily, he slipped a broad smile on his face, encouraging the pair to come inside. "I was talking about grandma's Yule gift with Slither. We were trying to think of the best place to hide it, so that sneaky little badgers wouldn't happen upon it." Tom knew that his eldest son would likely end up a Hufflepuff like his mother, having none of the ruthlessness that was required to succeed in Slytherin house. His mother looked at him with a hint of surprise in her eyes, but didn't say anything.

" _Slither! Tell me what grandma's present is!"_ Tommy asked excitedly of the old snake, who was unraveling herself to head towards the little boy. Tommy was always gentle and soft with Slither, knowing that she needed to be well looked after in her old age.

Before the snake could respond, Hermione was laughing from beside her grandson. "Oh, I am always feel so put out when I can't understand what's going on. I wish I could learn to speak parseltongue." She lamented.

Tom found himself glad that she was unable to learn it. "I am glad to see you mother, but I confess, we weren't expecting you until much later." It was true that Hermione and the rest of Tom's family were going to come over for dinner in the evening, seeing as his younger siblings were only out of Hogwarts for a short while during the winter.

"Radalphus was being so stroppy, I had to give him some space. Apparently Odette has some kind of secret admirer that Thibaut informed him of, and he is quite upset that his little girl is growing up." Hermione said with a laugh, thinking that he was rather protective of his girls. "I figured I would watch the children in case Melanie needed some extra time to get dinner together."

"Good. Odette is much too young to be courting anyone." Tom said with a slight frown marring his perfect features. "I am sure that Melanie was glad for the help. And I know that Tommy adores spending time with you, just like I did when I was a boy." Sometimes, those years before Hogwarts with just his mum were his fondest memories.

"Papa, can I _please_ have a familiar?" Tommy asked, from his spot next to Hermione, broad smile on his face. "I want one just like Slither!" He said proudly, the old snake having wrapped herself quite firmly around the little boy.

"Maybe when you are a bit older, Tom." He responded happily, feeling bittersweet, knowing that he did not have many years left with his companion. "Until then, you will just have to share Slither with me. She is a very big responsibility. _Would you like that Slither?_ "

The snake's tongue flicked out, tickling little Tommy's cheek, before she replied happily. " _I would love that, Tommy."_


	19. Hermione, Susan & Ron Revenge

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! Alright, so this one goes with Bigger Boys and Stolen Sweethearts...so you might want to read that first! Lots of you wanted to know what Hermione did to get revenge on Ron, so here it is :) You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of this one!

* * *

When Susan had told him that they were joining Hermione for brunch at her favorite restaurant in Diagon Alley, Ron hadn't even thought to be suspicious. He just assumed that they were going to finally ask Hermione to be godmother to their little peanut that was quickly approaching it's due date. It was something that they'd really put off far too long, but he was never one to bat an eyelash over a meal either. He imagined the taste of the thick sausages all the way to breakfast.

His first sign that something was wrong was that Susan slipped into the booth on the same side as Hermione, grabbing the woman in a tight side hug. Susan almost always sat next to him, as she liked to cuddle up with him. The way that they were set up...it was almost like...they could interrogate him.

Again, all discomfort was quickly quelled with small talk and the promise of food. Their attentive waitress visited their table immediately, and Ron didn't even have to look at the menu to know he was going to order the Full English. His mouth was positively watering from all the smells that were wafting out of the kitchen, and he couldn't wait to wolf down his three eggs, over easy, and rashers and those really delicious fried tomatoes.

Hermione and Susan chatted about baby things until all three of them had plates in front of them. He'd barely been able to enjoy his first bite when Susan was clearing her throat. "Ron, Hermione and I brought you here, because, well, there is something that we wanted to discuss with you."

He wasn't entirely sure why, but suddenly, that really had the hair on the back of his neck standing up. "Oh yeah? What about?" He asked between bites.

"Well, about our upcoming nuptials." Hermione said brightly, practically beaming at him from across the table, even as he was coughing and choking on his bit of buttered toast. "Honestly, Ron, I had no idea that you still felt that way about me, but once Marcus explained, I just knew that it was our second chance at happiness."

Ron had no idea _what_ to think, other than Hermione and Susan were clearly aware of the little prank that he'd played on the burly Quidditch player, letting him think that he and Hermione were actually getting married. He was disappointed at having been caught, but what was the most perplexing was that both of the women on the other side of the booth seemed incredibly... _happy_ about it. Desperately trying to clear his throat, Ron took a huge gulp of water, but that only served to make him sputter more. "That was a joke."

"Oh don't be silly, Ronald." Susan said serenely, her tone making him relax completely. Of course she saw that it was all a big joke. "I mean, I know its sudden, but I have no problems with this." She reached across the table and pressed a hand on his bare arm. "I don't want to stand in the way of your and Hermione's happiness, so I can step aside." She told him gracefully.

He could feel his blood pressure rising steadily and he was absolutely positive that his face was probably currently a bright shade of red. He was losing control of his breathing and was on the edge of hyperventilating. What the fuck did Susan mean that she would step aside? He didn't want anyone else, except his bloody wife! Who was pregnant with their first child! He bloody well loved her! And she was just willing to give up everything they'd built together? "But Susan, what about the baby?"

She gave him a little patronizing smile, her red hair gleaming in the sunlight. "Oh, you don't have to worry about us." Her hand reached down to pat her swollen midsection, where Ron's son or daughter was happily kicking away. "I am sure that Ernie would love to step in and help me out. You know we were such good friends in school."

 _That_ really had him seeing red. "Ernie!" He shouted, standing from the table, pounding his hands against the wood top, sending silverware flying. "I am not going to let Ernie _bloody_ Macmillian raise _my_ child!" Ron had always seen the longing glances that the bloody Hufflepuff had for Susan, and it wasn't a secret that they'd dated a bit while they were at Hogwarts.

Susan sat there, blinking at her husband, as if he hadn't just had a blowout of epic proportions. She _wasn't_ breaking, no matter how hilarious he looked.

Hermione on the other hand wasn't so lucky. She'd bitten her lip so hard that she'd tasted blood, but in the end, she couldn't hold back her laugh. It was just that Ron looked so worried, she was positive that he thought Susan might _actually_ be leaving him so that the two of them could be together. Looking over at Susan, she gave the other woman an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Susan, I can't keep it up any longer! Look at him!"

At this point, Ron looked thoroughly confused, his eyes not really sure which woman to look at. Susan pursed her lips, looking at his stupid face, before taking pity on him. "Oh, Ron! I am not really leaving you for Ernie. But it serves you right - telling poor Marcus that you and Hermione were getting married."

Ron gaped at the pair of them for a moment, before he sat back down heavily, staring at his plate, sulking. "I didn't say we were getting married...I just didn't correct him either." He said, wincing at how silly it sounded. "Well, I get it. I am sorry that I tried to sabotage Marcus...I just didn't want Hermione to get hurt again."

"I appreciate that you care about me, Ron, but you need to trust my judgement, as well." Hermione told him, knowing that Ron hadn't been malicious. "Well, we are even now, and you can stop worrying about it. I forgive you."

Her friend looked like he might want to argue with her, but instead he just nodded his head. "Just promise you won't ever do that to me again!" Hermione raised her eyebrow at him, waiting for him to continue. "And I won't do it again either!"


	20. Severus & Hermione Love Potion No 9

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after the last one! This one is for kittenshift17 in thanks for being the 100th reviewer of I'll Hold My Breath - that one had been hanging out at 99 for a long time, so I really appreciate the review! She asked for Severus x Hermione and a potions mishap. I don't know how much of a potions mishap this actually is, but I hope it works :) You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates, and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter twenty!

* * *

Hermione stared down at the empty potions vial in her hand, wondering if it had been a good idea to take it that night. Using her finger to smooth over the garish purple and orange label, the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes logo prominent in the middle. She'd only agreed to take the potion out of pity, seeing as it was the first time that George was creating again after the tragic death of his brother Fred during the war.

"It's not a love potion, despite the name," George told her, tapping the side of his nose. "Just a bit of a joke for the muggleborns, really," he'd explained about it's name - Love Potion Number Nine.

The brunette could see a bit of the humor in naming it that, but was still curious about what it was purported to do. "Alright, then, what's it supposed to do, then?" She asked him, watching the green liquid splash back and forth in the vial.

George had put his arm around her shoulders, his voice dropping a bit. "Listen, Hermione, I know things have been a bit weird since the relationship with Ron didn't work out. All this does is give you a bit more...confidence with the opposite sex, you know?"

Blushing brightly, Hermione nodded, _thinking_ that she did know what he meant. It was probably just a bit like alcohol, only without the other effects.

She wasn't sure what had compelled her to take it _this_ night though, seeing as it had been sitting in her knicker drawer completely forgotten up to that point. Since she'd returned to Hogwarts for her eighth year - sans Harry and Ron - she'd been so focused on her studies and hadn't really opened herself up for romantic attentions from her fellow classmates. When she was invited to a party in Ravenclaw tower with the other eighth years, it had been an opportunity to let loose that she couldn't pass up. Maybe tonight was the night that she could give her love life another chance.

And her sudden desire to hook up with a boy from her year certainly had _nothing_ to do with the persistent and insistent little crush she'd seemed to have developed on Professor Severus Snape, who had returned to his old post as potions master.

Shaking her head clear of _those_ kind of thoughts, Hermione finished getting dressed for the party all the while waiting to feel the potion kick in. She was sure that she was meant to feel _something_ by this point, but instead she remained the same, in control Hermione. Perhaps it had gone off, she thought, or maybe George was counting on the placebo effect to do most of the heavy lifting. Deciding that it was probably fine, she left her room, pocketing the empty vial just in case.

Hermione was in such a hurry to get there on time, her mind a mess of who she might sneak a snog with, that she completely missed the other person walking down the hallway. Barrelling right into the rather tall person, she used her hands to grab onto him and steady herself. "I'm so sorry, I wasn't watching-"

Her voice cut off in her throat when she realized that it was none other than Professor Snape she had her hands on. Transfixed, she felt as if she couldn't take her eyes off of the man's own bottomless black eyes, swirling with annoyance. Taking a deep breath, she let his scent wash over her - a unique and seductive blend of cloves, bergamot and smoke - her eyelids slowly drifting shut as she felt a wave of desire roll over her.

Merlin, of all the moments for her little love potion to kick in, it had to be now, didn't it? Her hands fumbled to find the empty vial, as if it would be some explanation for her continued bodily contact with her Professor. Her heart sped when she realized just how intimately they were still pressed together, thrills racing up her spine.

Her eyes flew open revealing blown pupils that her Professor drank in somewhat greedily. Hermione felt _something,_ some desire, some need burrow its way into her mind. She'd had a crush on the man for nearly seven months at this point and wasn't it time for her to just _do something_ about it? Like the brave Gryffindor she was? Whiskey brown eyes dipped to his parted lips, and her animal brain had made the final decision to act before she could second guess it.

Standing up on her tiptoes, her arm slung around his neck, Hermione pressed her lips against Professor Snape's, definitely catching him off guard. Not wanting to pass up the opportunity, Hermione surged forward, parting his lips and sliding her tongue against him, moaning at the white hot feel of it. Desire surged through her body and Hermione savored each and every feeling was able to draw out of the kiss. Sighing, she let her fingers twist in the hair at the nape of his neck, when she felt him respond, their kiss a passionate give and take.

She wasn't sure how long they stood their, kissing each other, but eventually Professor Snape seemed to come back to his senses, perhaps realizing that he was snogging a student in the hallways. Pressing his hands onto her shoulders, he pushed her back, leaving Hermione looking a bit dazed.

He reached down, holding her hand, which left Hermione feeling a bit confused as to why he would be doing that. It was only then that she realized it was the hand that was holding the empty potions vial. His face was a bit dark, as though he were quite annoyed, while he read the back of the label.

"As there is no law against taking a potion of this nature, Miss Granger," he lectured, his voice imperious, "I cannot punish you for having this in your possession. However, I can punish you for your actions against my person."

"I'm sorry, Professor, I-" Hermione started, only to be cut off when he raised his hand.

"Since you have been a very respectful student this year thus far, I think that I can let you go with a warning, Miss Granger. If…" he waited, letting her nerves grow to a fever pitch, "if your... _feelings_ remain at the end of the school year, at which point such actions might be seen as appropriate...and you should seek me out," he pursed his lips, as though he were considering all of his words very carefully, "we might continue this... _discussion_ at that time."

Hermione felt her cheeks grow hot at his words, letting them sink in. She might be wrong, but she thought that Professor Snape _might_ be suggesting that he didn't hate the snog as much as she thought he did. And that he might want to do it again. Fighting a smile, Hermione nodded. "Thank you, Professor."

"Now," he said, clearing his throat. "Run along." He instructed, handing back her empty vial of love potion number nine.


	21. Fenrir & Hermione Valentine's Surprise

A/N: A little drabble I wrote for Fenrir February + ash-castle's valentine's challenge. My prompt was "Surprise?"

Please let me know what you thought! Hope you have a great Valentine's Day!

* * *

Hermione stared down at the little boy who remained in her classroom long after all his other classmates had been picked up and taken home to their families and thought that this was one of the rare times that being a teacher had its downsides. She'd tried calling his guardian - his older brother - an obscene number of times, but he had yet to pick up.

Sometimes she wondered how little Ragnar was related to someone so irritating as Fenrir Greyback. Ragnar was one of her best students, who had an excellent grasp of reading, but needed a little extra help with math. He shared well and always seemed to make the other students laugh. With his dark hair and blue eyes, she was sure that he would grow up to be quite the lady killer someday. She just hoped that Fenrir wouldn't be too terrible of an influence on his younger brother.

Fenrir was all good looks and had the same coloring as Ragnar, but with the rugged handsomeness of man. He drove a fast motorcycle and seemed to be far more interested in trying to flirt with her than understanding how his charge was doing in all of his subjects when they met at parent-teacher conferences. Try as she might, Hermione could not deny that Fenrir Greyback _did_ have an effect on her when he gave her one of those hungry smiles.

Sighing, she moved to sit in the child sized desk next to Ragnar, cringing when she hit her knees on the top of the table. She was going to have to let Ginny and Luna know that their Galentine's date would have to be cancelled, as it seemed she would have a stow-away tonight.

"Ragnar, since your brother isn't here, yet, how would you like to wait for him at my house. It's just around the corner," she queried the younger boy, knowing that at their age, most students loathed anything to do with their teachers. Seeing a teacher outside of school was like seeing an animal in the while. "You can keep trying to call him there, but at least we can get you some dinner." To punctuate the late hour, her stomach growled.

To her surprise, Ragnar seemed to perk right up at the suggestion, nodding enthusiastically. "Alright, Miss Granger. That would be nice," he said, before standing up and gathering his backpack and coat.

On their way out to her little car, Hermione called Luna to let her know that they would have to reschedule. The dreamy blonde quickly wished her good luck on her date, which Hermione _tried_ to correct, saying that she didn't think her eight year old student would appreciate the word, but her friend had already hung up on her by the time she could get the words out. Thinking that it was a bit odd, but not that odd for Luna, Hermione drove Ragnar the short distance to her house, asking him if he'd like spaghetti for dinner, really the only thing that she could make reliably.

They walked into the house together, coming directly into the kitchen only to leave Hermione completely surprised that there was someone already in the house. Letting out a scream of shock before she could stop herself, the pressed a hand to her chest when she realized that it was Fenrir Greyback _in her kitchen_ with tongs in hand, attention completely given to a steak on the stove

"Mr. Greyback," she sputtered out, completely confused. "What the hell are you doing in my house?"

"Hey Fenrir," Ragnar greeted his brother, completely unphased by the odd situation. Had he known where his brother was all along?

"Sorry, Hermione, this is all my doing," came a feminine voice from the direction of her dining room. Ginny swept in, red hair up in a ponytail. "I helped him get in and get set up. Now, if you don't mind, Luna and I have babysitting duties. Ready to go Ragnar?" she asked the boy brightly, taking his hand and walking him towards the door. Before she shut it behind her, she gave Hermione one last cheeky wink. "Enjoy your date."

But then, Hermione realized that she was alone with Fenrir Greyback, and apparently on a date. He turned and gave her a little grin. "Surprise?"

"What, what is all this?" she questioned, knowing that things like this just never happened for her. Had Fenrir really gone to all of the trouble to cook a meal for her on Valentine's Day? Something just wasn't adding up.

He urged her into the dining room where her tiny table was set up for two, with candles and a single pink rose in a vase. He gave her a soft smile, seeing that she was still so dumbfounded, she honestly didn't know what to think. Rubbing a hand across the back of her neck, he started to explain. "Well, you never took me seriously before when I asked you out, so I suppose I just had to _show_ you I was serious. Ginny and Luna were really quite helpful...they apparently both want you to give dating another shot."

"But, I thought," Hermione swallowed thickly. "I thought you were just teasing me, trying to make me uncomfortable.

Fenrir gave her one of those smiles that made her heart flutter against her chest. "Come on now, I don't flirt with _all_ Ragnar's teachers. Just you," he stepped a bit closer to her, hand cupping her jaw gently.

Before she could even decide if she _wanted_ to stop him, he was leaning down and pressing a kiss to her lips. Her eyes fluttered shut while she soaked in the moment, cataloging the feel of Fenrir's lips against hers, her heart singing when she realized that yes, she wanted to kiss him and never to stop.


	22. Tom & Hermione Salazar the Kitten

A/N: Hey y'all! Here is a little drabble that I wrote for a tumblr prompt a while ago and decided to post it here! Please let me know what you thought of it!

* * *

Hermione knew that it had been a bad idea to make the executive decision to get a kitten without discussing it with her boyfriend of three years first. She had _absolutely_ no idea if he even liked pets, aside from him telling her he'd had a pet snake as a child. Hell, she had no idea if he was allergic!

But he'd been on a _bloody_ business trip to _bloody_ Albania for three _bloody_ weeks and well…it had gotten _so_ lonely.

…And she hadn't gone into the pet adoption event actually _intending_ to get a kitten, but then the little all gray _tom_ cat had pushed his paw out at her, practically begging to be held and loved. She'd signed the papers and bought the kitten before she even realized it.

All of the phone calls that she'd had with Tom, going into detail about her day, meetings at work, what she ate for dinner, never once did she mention that she'd invited a little furball into their shared apartment. Tom was definitely not the kind of man who enjoyed being surprised and well, at the time, it just _seemed_ like a better idea to…keep her little impulsive decision to herself.

Now, though, when they were standing in front of their apartment, Hermione letting Tom fiddle with his keys, she realized that she might have made a terrible, terrible miscalculation of judgement. Biting her lower lip while she watched him finally turn the key in the door, Hermione blurted out the question that she knew she had no business asking now. "H-how do you feel about cats, Tom?"

Instantly, from the way his shoulders tensed, and the way that the silence stretched between them, Hermione realized that she _might_ have fucked up. Tom turned to look to her, intense blue eyes boring into her very soul, with thinly veiled concern. "Hostile," he said with a frown, before pushing the door open and stepping inside.

Immediately, Salazar darted out and started rubbing himself against Tom's legs, darting between his legs, purring audibly. Her boyfriend stared at the little creature who _dared_ to touch his person without his permission before flopping over onto his side, begging for a belly pet.

"Hermione," Tom seethed, before turning around to look at her, hand outstretched towards the cat to indicate him. " _What_ did you do?"

She plastered a fake grin on his face, before bending over to scoop up the cat, rubbing her face against the little grey one. "His name is Salazar! Isn't he precious?" she questioned, knowing that if she would just play dumb, she might be able wiggle her way out of the situation. "He was my little tomcat while you were away."

"Okay," Tom said slowly. "But, _I'm_ here now, so…where should we deposit this creature?" He asked again, keeping his distance between him and the cat.

Hermione set Salazar down on the ground, before standing up on her tippy-toes to give Tom a kiss on the cheek. "Oh, silly! Salazar is with us now – we're his forever home." She left the room before he could try to argue any more.

* * *

When they finally made their way to bed, Hermione knew that she was testing Tom's limits. She was already tucked into bed, a book in front of her, with Salazar purring next to her. On Tom's pillow.

"Hermione," Tom said sharply, clearly trying to hold his anger in check. "What is…the creature doing on my pillow?" His fingers clenched at his sides, as though he would like to do nothing more than strangle the little cat. But, to his credit, Tom didn't seem to scare Salazar one bit. The grey kitten just flicked his tail at her boyfriend and only seemed to purr louder next to her.

She grinned up at him, again trying to seem innocent. Fake it until you make it. "Oh, isn't it just _too_ cute? He has been sleeping next to me every night while you were gone. It's like his own little spot," Hermione explained sweetly, wondering if she was able to pull the wool over Tom's eyes.

"Yes, well." He growled a bit at her explanation, before gingerly picking up the cat and setting him down on the floor. "I am home now, and he is just going to have to find a new spot. This one is already taken."

He pulled back the covers and slid in next to her. Hermione didn't hesitate in setting her book aside and curling into her boyfriend, pressing her still cold feet to his legs, making him hiss. She supposed she could agree with him on that one.

* * *

The weeks went by and Hermione was surprised that Tom hadn't put up further fuss about Salazar. She'd fully expected him to get so frustrated that he demand she rehome the cat, who loved to flaunt his place in the home, stomping across the counters and drinking out of Tom's glass. Now, that was not to say that Tom got _along_ with Salazar. He still gave the mischievous kitten a very wide berth, removing himself from any situation when Sal might want any physical contact.

Hermione was happy with that, as she truly thought it was the best possible outcome for the pair. That was until she got a text from Tom that he was sick.

If Tom was telling her that he was sick, that meant he was _really_ sick, and her heart clenched for him. She stopped at the grocery store on the way home to get chicken noodle soup and ingredients for grilled cheese sandwiches, and was fully prepared to play nursemaid to the normally undefeatable man.

That was until she walked into the apartment and found Tom asleep on the couch, the television flickering the news, tucked in with a blanket. Salazar laid in a tight little ball, snuggled up on Tom's chest, purring wildly while his bed's chest rose up and down steadily. She couldn't stop the smile from growing on her face. Apparently, Tom was no longer quite as hostile to cats as he claimed.


End file.
